Thursday, March 31, 2011
Fasting and Periods and Science Labs
So I guess it's not okay to fast when you're on your period and doing a heart related science lab. Usually when I start to feel sick, I fast for about a day or so and then I feel better right away. I swear by this, starving viruses really works. But I think this was just bad timing. This morning I didn't eat breakfast because I knew I was getting sick. But I forgot that I had a science lab today where we had to take eachothers' pulse after exercising and stuff. So I think the combination of me already being a tiny bit squeamish, not eating breakfast, being on my period, and feeling sick did me in. I started to get all dizzy and pale and sweaty and had to lay down for a little while. It was pretty embarrasing, seeing as how this is the first week of class and now my lab partners probably think I'm a pussy. Haha oh well. I guess I learned my lesson: Don't fast when you're on your period and about to do a lab in biology!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
The Oak Tree: Vegan Baked Goods and Other Items
I have decided that I want to open a vegan bakery in Seattle. I think I will call it The Oak Tree: Vegan Baked Goods and Other Items. I might sell other items as well, like natural shampoos and things like that.
I wish this was a realistic thing to do. It would be fun to have a place on University Avenue by UW. I feel like college aged kids would be pretty open to vegan stuff! :)
I wish this was a realistic thing to do. It would be fun to have a place on University Avenue by UW. I feel like college aged kids would be pretty open to vegan stuff! :)
Friday, March 18, 2011
Blah blah blah
*This actually happened yesterday. haha
So today I failed my senior presentation. This happened probably because I put my presentation together last night and didn’t have a good enough opener and closer. I’m just not interesting enough to come up with attention getters. I guess that’s why I’m no good at writing too. But anyways, it’s pretty embarrassing. All day people have been inquiring as to whether I passed or not, and I keep telling the same story in response. But whatever, I got to wear a pretty dress, and that’s all that matters to me. And now I have an excuse to dress up in April, too. :)
And now I’m at rehearsal for Once Upon a Mattress. The music sounds amazing! The whole play is amazing. So if anyone is actually reading this, COME TO IT. It’s in May. I CAN’T WAIT! I’m finally stage manager. Well, one of the stage managers. There are two of us! I’m just not sure if my co-stage manager knows that I’m on the same level as her or if she thinks I’m her assistant. It’s kind of an awkward thing to say, but I need people to know that I have authority, too. That’s the problem with me; I’m too nice to let people know these things. I need to grow some balls and not care about people so much but it’s so hard!
I'm addicted to the theatre.
Alright, I said it. When I'm not in the theatre, I am thinking about it. And when I am in the theatre, I feel like I am at home. Does this make me a theatre geek? Maybe. But I'm willing to deal with that. It just makes me sad when my favorite theatre people aren't there anymore. MARA I AM TALKING TO YOU! :)
Thursday, March 3, 2011
I want to live in the woods!
A few days ago, I was reading a book (Eating Animals, by Jonathan Saffron Foer) that said our world is overdue for a major pandemic. I figure that I would have a better chance surviving this pandemic if I lived in the woods, away from people who could transmit their illness to me. But, I'm probably not going to live in the woods. More likely, I would be prepared to move into the woods at the first sight of a world wide disease.
To prepare for life in the woods, I need to be able to identify edible plants. But I don't know where to find this information! I've tried to google it and everything, but I feel like I need some real life experience. I sent an application to the US Forest Service so that I can volunteer, and hopefully someone I come in contact with will help me out!
It really bothers me that as a species, human beings have lost contact with the natural world. Where does food come from? To the majority of Americans, it comes from the supermarket. How do you get to the supermarket? Drive in a car. Why can't we at least walk places, or use our own energy to get around? Then we would all be healthier and in the case that our car broke down, our lives wouldn't come to a complete standstill. And if we still had the knowledge to find or grow our own food, then our food supply would be a lot more stable. As it is, the world population is growing unsustainably, and it's only a matter of time until we overgrow our capacity to produce food.
They say that the hunter gatherers of our past had a better quality of life than people who produce food today. And this isn't a radical claim. This is a widely accepted statement throughout the scientific world. My anthropology teacher said that a family of four can collect enough wild growing wheat in 2 weeks to feed them for a whole year. That is definately a good deal compared to the daily watering, weeding, and tending needed for a garden or farm. And when you add in the possibility of a drought or other weather conditions that can compromise your crop yield, hunting and gathering start to look pretty good.
To prepare for life in the woods, I need to be able to identify edible plants. But I don't know where to find this information! I've tried to google it and everything, but I feel like I need some real life experience. I sent an application to the US Forest Service so that I can volunteer, and hopefully someone I come in contact with will help me out!
It really bothers me that as a species, human beings have lost contact with the natural world. Where does food come from? To the majority of Americans, it comes from the supermarket. How do you get to the supermarket? Drive in a car. Why can't we at least walk places, or use our own energy to get around? Then we would all be healthier and in the case that our car broke down, our lives wouldn't come to a complete standstill. And if we still had the knowledge to find or grow our own food, then our food supply would be a lot more stable. As it is, the world population is growing unsustainably, and it's only a matter of time until we overgrow our capacity to produce food.
They say that the hunter gatherers of our past had a better quality of life than people who produce food today. And this isn't a radical claim. This is a widely accepted statement throughout the scientific world. My anthropology teacher said that a family of four can collect enough wild growing wheat in 2 weeks to feed them for a whole year. That is definately a good deal compared to the daily watering, weeding, and tending needed for a garden or farm. And when you add in the possibility of a drought or other weather conditions that can compromise your crop yield, hunting and gathering start to look pretty good.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
One of the most beautiful stories I have ever read
The leaves were falling from the great oak at the meadow’s edge. They were falling from all the trees.
One branch of the oak reached high above the others and stretched far out over the meadow. Two leaves clung to its very tip.
“It isn’t the way it used to be,” said one leaf to the other.
“No,” the other leaf answered. “So many of us have fallen off tonight we’re almost the only ones left on our branch.”
“You never know who’s going to go next,” said the first leaf. “Even when it was warm and the sun shone, a storm or a cloudburst would come sometimes, and many leaves were torn off, though they were still young. You never know who’s going to go next.”
“The sun seldom shines now,” sighed the second leaf, “and when it does it gives no warmth. We must have warmth again.”
“Can it be true,” said the first leaf, “can it really be true, that others come to take our places when we’re gone and after them still others, and more and more?”
“It is really true,” whispered the second leaf. “We can’t even begin to imagine it, it’s beyond our powers.”
“It makes me very sad,” added the first leaf.
They were silent a while. Then the first leaf said quietly to herself, “Why must we fall? …”
The second leaf asked, “What happens to us when we have fallen?”
“We sink down… .”
“What is under us?”
The first leaf answered, “I don’t know, some say one thing, some another, but nobody knows.”
The second leaf asked, “Do we feel anything, do we know anything about ourselves when we’re down there?”
The first leaf answered, “Who knows? Not one of all those down there has ever come back to tell us about it.”
They were silent again. Then the first leaf said tenderly to the other, “Don’t worry so much about it, you’re trembling.”
“That’s nothing,” the second leaf answered, “I tremble at the least thing now. I don’t feel so sure of my hold as I used to.”
“Let’s not talk any more about such things,” said the first leaf.
The other replied, “No, we’ll let be. But what else shall we talk about?” She was silent, but went on after a little while. “Which of us will go first?”
“There’s still plenty of time to worry about that,” the other leaf assured her. “Let’s remember how beautiful it was, how wonderful, when the sun came out and shone so warmly that we thought we’d burst with life. Do you remember? And the morning dew, and the mild and splendid nights …”
“Now the nights are dreadful,” the second leaf complained, “and there is no end to them.”
“We shouldn’t complain,” said the first leaf gently. “We’ve outlived many, many others.”
“Have I changed much?” asked the second leaf shyly but determinedly.
“Not in the least,” the first leaf assured her. “You only think so because I’ve got to be so yellow and ugly. But it’s different in your case.”
“You’re fooling me,” the second leaf said.
“No, really,” the first leaf exclaimed eagerly, “believe me, you’re as lovely as the day you were born. Here and there may be a little yellow spot but it’s hardly noticeable and only makes you handsomer, believe me.”
“Thanks,” whispered the second leaf, quite touched. “I don’t believe you, not altogether, but I thank you because you’re so kind, you’ve always been so kind to me. I’m just beginning to understand how kind you are.”
“Hush,” said the other leaf, and kept silent herself for she was too troubled to talk any more.
Then they were both silent. Hours passed.
A moist wind blew, cold and hostile, through the treetops.
“Ah, now,” said the second leaf, “I …” Then her voice broke off. She was torn from her place and spun down.
Winter had come.
From “Bambi, a Life in the Woods” written in 1923 by Felix Salten.
One branch of the oak reached high above the others and stretched far out over the meadow. Two leaves clung to its very tip.
“It isn’t the way it used to be,” said one leaf to the other.
“No,” the other leaf answered. “So many of us have fallen off tonight we’re almost the only ones left on our branch.”
“You never know who’s going to go next,” said the first leaf. “Even when it was warm and the sun shone, a storm or a cloudburst would come sometimes, and many leaves were torn off, though they were still young. You never know who’s going to go next.”
“The sun seldom shines now,” sighed the second leaf, “and when it does it gives no warmth. We must have warmth again.”
“Can it be true,” said the first leaf, “can it really be true, that others come to take our places when we’re gone and after them still others, and more and more?”
“It is really true,” whispered the second leaf. “We can’t even begin to imagine it, it’s beyond our powers.”
“It makes me very sad,” added the first leaf.
They were silent a while. Then the first leaf said quietly to herself, “Why must we fall? …”
The second leaf asked, “What happens to us when we have fallen?”
“We sink down… .”
“What is under us?”
The first leaf answered, “I don’t know, some say one thing, some another, but nobody knows.”
The second leaf asked, “Do we feel anything, do we know anything about ourselves when we’re down there?”
The first leaf answered, “Who knows? Not one of all those down there has ever come back to tell us about it.”
They were silent again. Then the first leaf said tenderly to the other, “Don’t worry so much about it, you’re trembling.”
“That’s nothing,” the second leaf answered, “I tremble at the least thing now. I don’t feel so sure of my hold as I used to.”
“Let’s not talk any more about such things,” said the first leaf.
The other replied, “No, we’ll let be. But what else shall we talk about?” She was silent, but went on after a little while. “Which of us will go first?”
“There’s still plenty of time to worry about that,” the other leaf assured her. “Let’s remember how beautiful it was, how wonderful, when the sun came out and shone so warmly that we thought we’d burst with life. Do you remember? And the morning dew, and the mild and splendid nights …”
“Now the nights are dreadful,” the second leaf complained, “and there is no end to them.”
“We shouldn’t complain,” said the first leaf gently. “We’ve outlived many, many others.”
“Have I changed much?” asked the second leaf shyly but determinedly.
“Not in the least,” the first leaf assured her. “You only think so because I’ve got to be so yellow and ugly. But it’s different in your case.”
“You’re fooling me,” the second leaf said.
“No, really,” the first leaf exclaimed eagerly, “believe me, you’re as lovely as the day you were born. Here and there may be a little yellow spot but it’s hardly noticeable and only makes you handsomer, believe me.”
“Thanks,” whispered the second leaf, quite touched. “I don’t believe you, not altogether, but I thank you because you’re so kind, you’ve always been so kind to me. I’m just beginning to understand how kind you are.”
“Hush,” said the other leaf, and kept silent herself for she was too troubled to talk any more.
Then they were both silent. Hours passed.
A moist wind blew, cold and hostile, through the treetops.
“Ah, now,” said the second leaf, “I …” Then her voice broke off. She was torn from her place and spun down.
Winter had come.
From “Bambi, a Life in the Woods” written in 1923 by Felix Salten.
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