A listy listy list that doesn't have much to do with anything

Last night on Glee (yes, I'm sorry, stick with me, I promise it will only be for a paragraph at most), they tried to 'cure' the woman with severe OCD by attempting to force feed her unwashed fruit. While this did provide decent build-up to the Gaga cover, which was the sole reason for my watching, it also made me flinch. Just ... ouch.
Later that evening, I found myself standing in the kitchen watching my roommate tidy everything, and it got me thinking. And, as usually happens when I think, it resulted in me taking a dinner break from the final legs of my EHR paper to write a '10 random things about me only acceptable because there's some kind of context and it's not on FB' type post.

Things I'm not OCD about

- Putting everything in its place.
OK, so I like my room to be tidy, and I like my wardrobe to be organised, and I don't like clutter. (I'm pretty sure my home-home room is some kind of weird masochistic joke on my part). On the other hand, I don't usually find myself running around because someone left a pair of scissors on the counter or the lid up on the washing machine. Which I guess is good. Although I do make an exception if someone deliberately moves something out of place. That's just not funny.

- Laundry.
One of the girls tends to come around twice a month or so to use our washing machine. Watching her do her washing (that sounds a lot weirder than it actually is, honest) actually made me realise that in some respects I'm an irresponsible bastion of flexibility. I really wish I had pictures for this, because while she's all "unfold this and turn it inside out and match all my socks together and make sure everything's washing-machine safe - oops, hand-wash only, into the other pile with you!," I'm very much "put it all in! PUT EVERYTHING IN! It's probably colour-fast!"
I don't know if this is actually normality or simply some sort of weird and hampering reverse-OCD.

- Papers
Don't get me wrong, I suffer a lot of anxiety about papers, but I can't help feeling that if I were properly OCD this would be more caused by the fact that I missed my self-imposed, two-week early deadline and less by oh my god it's due in tomorrow morning and I really don't have an argument syndrome.

- Cleaning fruit and veg / Sharing food (unless someone gets saliva on it, in which case NO.)
I don't know why not. Again, possibly maladaptive, but I like to think that this is simply one of the few good by-products of my good old-fashioned mud-pie eating childhood.

- The whole fine-cleaning thing.
A bucketload of bleach and a sponge do me fine, thank you!

- Compulsive habits.
This one I'm not sure about. On the one hand, I thank the lord every day that my distinctly O-inclined personality keeps me free of numbered doorknob turns and the like. Seriously. Out of the two C is clearly the evil twin. But sometimes I imagine it would be nice to develop a permanent habit which saw me finishing my work promptly at 9, making myself a packed lunch for the day, and settling down to an early night's sleep. Although I think my cider-obsessed side might have problems with that.

Next time: last week's currently unpublished post detailing the things I can and cannot do when suffering from finalsitis. It's written by braindead!Jessie, and it makes normal(maybe)!Jessie giggle.

I may have a problem

In hindsight, reading myself to sleep with a fantasy horror book when the birds in the attic started kicking up a fuss at 3.30 am was probably a bad idea. As it happened, though, I ended up having nightmares in which a tumblr blog (oh, the spelling, it kills me) went all Ring and began driving people crazy. Then I had one of those wonderful happy dreams where all I can remember is walking away from a group of people saying 'I love these fantasies,' but which was nonetheless still the best dream I've had for ages.

The problem is that my nightmare may not be as far fetched as it undoubtedly sounds. Let me explain. There is nothing to do in Hartford. Nothing. Much as I've enjoyed this year, Hartford is and will no doubt remain, the ghost town of America. My weekend activities are limited to going to the mall, going to the park, or going to West Hartford, which is pretty much like going to the mall except outside and prettier. So, as I've alluded to before, since coming here, I have watched more TV than I ever have before in my life, save for that stint when I was 11 and off school sick for a while. I am a dedicated follower of Criminal Minds. I have seen every episode of Downton Abbey. I watched the whole of the 2009 production of Alice. I'm up-to-date with my Family Guys. I've just started Pushing Daisies. And I am slowly being transformed into a so-called 'Gleek.'

Glee is probably taking over my life. It's an odd show. I imagine that had I started watching it when it first came out in the UK I would still be a fan, but one who catches up in her spare time rather than a dedicated, on the sofa at the same time every week type of fan. It's generally decent TV, at least as far as I'm concerned. It's set in hyper-reality, it is full of pretty primary colours, it has wonderfully snarky comments, and they randomly break into song at least twice an episode. All of these things are good. However, being in Hartford with nothing to do, all these things suddenly transformed into The Best Things Ever, and I transformed into a scarily dedicated, Tuesdays-at-8 girl. It's sad, yes, but generally I've been able to cope. The problem is that the show has recently taken a break with all sorts of unresolved plot lines, and well- I have an obsessive personality. More so when writing essays, and desperately so when bored solid. Which leads me to tumblr.

Tumblr is a terrifying place. It reminds me vividly of the days when, as a 15/16 year old girl who liked Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings and shinies, I joined online groups in which 'squee' and 'OMG' constituted appropriate conversation starters and making fan posters was a legitimate use of one's spare time. Tumblr, much like those groups, is also desperately shiny and, more importantly, full of people who are also struggling with Glee withdrawal symptoms. Now I think I need an intervention before it's too late, because I'm beginning to scare myself, and I'm getting online jokes which no one should ever be able to understand. I actually know what 'Klaine' means, and if that isn't a cry for help then what is? Besides, there is never any excuse for following fictional characters' Twitter feeds.

So the moral of the story is that I need to get a life, and fast. A deeper moral is that if you find yourself in a place like Hartford, for god's sakes get a car, or join a club, or something. If I had joined an aerobics class instead of discovering Glee, well, things would be very different, wouldn't they?

Normal posting returns next week.

JJ

My life as it happens

I haven't updated for a while, no. I've had quite a lot going on, in Hartford and back in the UK. To make that sentence relevant to the study abroad issue- I think one of the hardest aspects of living in another country is that when things go wrong at home you really do feel the difference. Skype is amazing, but sometimes it doesn't quite cut it.

Which brings me onto my next point, which is general marvelling at technology. My friend Dale, champion of all things shiny and technological, has a 'magic' phone, which allows him to use Skype / Google Voice etc, which means that we actually can have proper phone-to-phone conversations over the internet. If you're thinking about studying abroad, get yourself a friend with one of these! Hell, get yourself one!

As for my life: I don't like papers, I don't like editing, I do like talking to people and going out for breakfast, and preparing for Spring Fling (in two weeks, and yes, I'm wearing 5 inch heels), and cheering on the UConn Huskies (the varsity basketball team) in tomorrow's "March Madness" final, and sitting in the sun.

Oh, and I also very much like Law School sponsored trips to Washington DC. I've always had a soft spot for DC and Virginia (that's what spending the formative years of your childhood there will do), and it was fantastic to go back and see the place through adult eyes. Plus, a $300 / night hotel room is always welcome in my books! We did very much, and we took many pictures, and we saw very many examples of cherry blossom, and I'm now very much of the opinion that Justice Scalia bears a passing resemblance to Jabba the Hut.
I also got to see some very dear friends of the family while I was there, which was amazing, and made me feel very nostalgic, and I got to ride the AmTrak home, which was an experience and a half. That is:
Experience : Meeting a couple at the Harper's Ferry stop who had hiked the Appalachian trail over 4 days and got engaged just above the Harper's Ferry church.
And a half: Waiting for 45 minutes to cross a bridge in NY because "the President was flying over in his helicopter."

Here's a picture:



















In other news, I have a house for next year, with a big yellow room and a boat in the back garden which I'm very happy about. And I'm debating, in the spirit of using my 'Bizarre' tag to its fullest extent, of uploading my 'Things I love / Things I hate' list which I drew up following a very odd conversation with Siobhan. Oh, and I've written a few more poems for my other blog.

JJ

Country Roads...

Just a quick note to say that I am currently in Virginia, having toured DC, and will be updating Wednesday if all goes to plan.

Smiley faces all around!

This is why I used to lock my brother in the shed

I was busy working on the climactic scene of my Emma Zunz script, and, wanting a break, I went onto Facebook. Big mistake. What did I find but that my brother, one Joshua Carter-Syme, had, in a fit of productive procrastination, posted this. I repost it in its original form so that yes, you can see that he is indeed the brains of the family.

Well, this is a note, that is to say, a piece of writing/other form of information recording, which is recorded to avoid decay. Enjoy.

Comparatively speaking, when I was younger I was smarter. I was better at philosophizing, much better with logic, and my skin was a little paler. I've noticed that this is a continuous process, and it annoys me. Although I'm still constantly absorbing information, becoming more intelligent, the process is slowing down, and in just a few years, it could very well go into reverse. As it is, I used to learn a small amount faster than others, which somewhat made up for my lack of knowledge and common sense. Right now, my intelligence is increasing rather slower than that of those around me, even if it is technically still increasing. How to say this, its acceleration is decreasing. I can only imagine what I'll be like after a decade, since I expect it to hit and go beneath zero at around the nineteen-twenty year mark. If it hits zero and stops, then I'll be a being with no capacity for new knowledge, a pointless shell, and a waste of space. If it goes beneath zero, becoming negative, then I will ultimately end up with a mental capacity equivalent to that of someone in a PVS. That's not really something I want, for reasons which should be obvious. It is partially because of this that I will eventually be campaigning for the rights to assisted suicide and euthanasia...Because they're still not legal!

If the right to life is a basic right, given to all members of the human species merely for being a part of said species, then it follows logically that the right to death is its inseparable counterpart. Why is it that human life is considered sacred, and always prolonged, even against the wishes of the individual? Isn't the reason abortion is mostly legal these days that people have a right to control what goes on in their bodies, even to the extent of ending a potential human life? Hasn't anyone ever heard the phrase "Quality over quantity"? There is no reason to follow the religious consensus on this matter, yet I believe that a great deal of the anti-euthanasia, anti-suicide support comes from organizations such as the Roman Catholic Church, of which a vast number of people are adherents. Are we to simply let the subjective belief in a logically contradictory and immoral deity stand in the way of reason, and freedom? Mankind has fought against oppression before, and no matter how long it takes, eventually the tyrants are toppled, and peace reigns for a short while. but this may be the hardest battle in our entire history, and whomsoever wins, we lose.

The question is, which of us will lose, and which of us actually should lose?

I do not hate religion. I believe it was necessary for our survival, and may well be what supposedly separates us from the other animals. But its time has passed. It is now, like our bodily response to stress, not simply useless, but unhelpful. The only difference is that religion is self aware, and acts more like a virus than the simple cause-and-effect system of the human body. It realizes that it exists, ignores the fact that it naturally ends up killing its host organism (in this case, humanity), and rapidly multiplies, aiming for total control. Oh, the analogy is flawed, but ultimately I see very, very little difference, and it serves as well as any. Regardless, organized religion now holds us back, condemning freedom of speech, of sexuality, even of thought. We must place it behind us, and move on into the open pastures of logic and reason, which will surely welcome us with open arms, metaphorically speaking. There, we can simply be, not worrying about sin or redemption, no longer plagued by contradiction and close-mindedness, free at last.

The Netherlands have shown that euthanasia need not lead to a "slippery slope" effect, and surely legalizing assisted suicide and euthanasia is better than the alternative? Currently, if I want to have a lethal drug administered by a professional, I have to travel to America, locate a state which still allows the death penalty, and go on a killing spree.

This obviously causes far more harm than it needs to, and even simple suicide is still problematic. Not only do you have to acquire all the tools and such in secret, which is irritating, but the process isn't even very hard...just tedious. More importantly, once the deed has been done, there is the shock and horror of the family and friends, and often an investigation, complications with wills and deeds and insurance, and all sorts of other irritations, many of which cost the government themselves not a little, and the taxpayer a great deal indeed. Then the family must live with the guilt and sadness of your death. There is nothing here to consider worthwhile, and yet hundreds are forced to it because of the current prohibition of assisted suicide, and the implied illegality of even wanting to die. Hating your entire life does not make you insane, in need of psychological help, nor is death such a bad thing. If you have nothing to live for, you should be allowed to die, plain and simple. If you are capable of rational function, you should be allowed freedom.

Why not just legalize the bloody thing and have done with it?

Until the inevitable response, I rest my case.

Ah, New England

[I want to describe to you the dramatic changing of the seasons here in Hartford, as well as my new, spring-influenced walk to school. To do so, never having learned my lesson when it comes to experimental blog posts, I would like to practice my screenplay writing skills. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is what I am learning here- this and origami and the ability to objectively analyse slave laws.]

Scene:

A cool March morning. The sky is pale blue with a few pink-tinged clouds. The sun has just risen. Camera focuses, a la sitcom shot, on the green 'WHITNEY' sign before panning down a long residential street, lined with large, timbered, New England-style houses.

Camera stops by a short flight of white timber stairs leading to a glass door. The door opens and JESS appears. She is much thinner and prettier than the original, and her legs meet approved movie-star proportions. She is dressed in ballet flats, bright purple tights, a denim skirt, blue t-shirt, and purple cardigan. Over her shoulder is a large green school bag. Today is heavy books day, despite JESS's best attempts to leave her folders at home.

She rummages fruitlessly through the mailbox. She knows the mail won't arrive for another 3 hours, but she remains an eternal optimist. Giving up, she heads down the street. Camera follows at a wide-angle, focusing on the house still carrying its huge, light-up, 'Merry Christmas' placard, the row of dustbins placed in the middle of the pavement, and next door's brand new BBQ.

At the traffic lights JESS turns left and heads east. She is singing along to some Beatles song to which she knows only a third of the words. The houses here are more expensive, and the gardens are bigger. Although there are not yet any flowers, the birds are singing loudly. There are few cars and no other pedestrians. In the distance we see the looming grey figure of the Law School library, backed by a pink cloudbank. The grass varies from dead yellow to deep green, and is still spotted with occasional piles of snow. JESS walks past one garden which is only just beginning to thaw, despite the warmth of the day.

Reaching the end of the street, JESS cuts across the swathe of grass behind the Law library. Suddenly, and without warning, it begins raining heavily.

JESS: Son of a -

Cut scene

Oh, and another postscript

Did I mention it was getting warmer? Or that almost all the snow has melted? Or that I bought new hats? Or that I'm going to New York (baby) tomorrow?
No?
How horribly remiss of me. Here is a picture of the crew of the Good Ship Folk Soc looking particularly ... glowy to make up for it.