The Ethics of the Internet

The internet. It's kind of scary. Putting thoughts and opinions on the internet? Only scary when you're the first to do it. It seems that rejecting and subsequently making fun of someone's opinion on the internet is very easy to do.

But what are the ethics of this? It's easy when you're some 13-year-old nobody with nothing better to do, but when you're a 20-year-old who has yet to break in to the professional world, holding two jobs of some stature...all of a sudden it starts to get tricky.

This is a personal blog, and I say a lot of personal things. I've said things that I didn't think were controversial, but a lot of people proved me wrong. As a full-time RA, and a Supervisor at RenX, I represent RPI in lots of different ways. Do the opinions I put here reflect on them? I don't think they should, and I would never assume that of someone else. But as I said, what I think is obviously not necessarily what other people think.

I took a break from blogging because I thought this was important to reflect on. A lot of habits I have had to be put in check. If I put opinions on here, I'm reflecting RPI. If I put pictures on here, I am reflecting RPI. I don't really know what RPI's stance is on some of the issues I like to write about, so it's not really fair for me to put words in their mouth, is it?

I don't drink, for lots of reasons, but a major point being that I am not of legal age to. It doesn't bother me that my friends drink, I don't really have a moral objection to it, it's simply a personal choice for my life and who I am.

However, as an RA, I have to take issue with my residents drinking. It's my responsibility to enforce the rules and, obviously, the law. So does that stop with JUST my residents? Does that stop with JUST students? I represent RPI, remember. RPI does not take kindly to underage drinkers.

I have enjoyed the freedom of only representing myself in the past. But now, if I go to a party where there are residents who I know are under-age and they are drinking, I've put myself in an uncomfortable position. Normally I would go to friends' parties, not drink and enjoy the social scene, but I don't think my job affords that luxury any longer.

This is hard for me, because I've enjoyed being an open person here, in fact I've talked about how much I've enjoyed it, but I don't know if I can continue to blog, at least so publicly. I don't see some things the way others do, and I tend to be less conservative in my opinions on things like sex and relationships, so while censoring is an option I don't know that I trust my ability to do so. Something that seems innocuous to me may in fact be offensive and out of line to others.

The internet makes things tricky now, as we really don't have official stances on anything. Some employers let their employees send email all day while others limit personal conversations. NSFW is common all over websites, but sometimes you can't trust others' judgment. Honestly, other people's thoughts would be greatly appreciated here, because I really don't know what to think about this. Whether you leave a comment or stop to talk when you see me, please give me your two cents to help me start figuring this all out...

Geezer McOld

I'm so old.

When I got home today, I had the same sensation I used to get being at Grandma's. It feels like home, but I still feel like a guest.

I go through a process of discovery every time I get back from school. I have a couple shoe boxes full of stuff in my closet and around my room with little things that I've forgotten about after being away for so long. It's like there's little presents all over just waiting to be remembered.

My favorite box is the one full of junk. Nostalgic junk. Like the tennis ball I used in the match against that girl that mooned my team when she lost. Or the atta-girls from camp that I got as a CIT. Or the jump rope I used during recess in elementary school. And a whole bunch of other stuff.

But what really got me was a picture in there of me. It was taken at camp when I was probably 14, maybe 15. My hair was a lot blonder, I was a little tanner, and I was really happy. I remember that period of my life, and I remember how happy I was with myself. I was getting really good grades in school. My home life was good. I really thought I was beautiful.

But I think what's weirdest of all is that I really appreciate how that part of my life is over. That girl in the picture? We're really not that different. I am really happy with myself right now. Everything I just said describes me now. But she's not me, and I'm not her. I felt like I was more looking at an old friend in that picture than I was looking at myself.

When I come home, I get reacquainted with myself, and I gain a lot of perspective on where I really am in life. It's so easy to forget when I'm three hours away and spending all my time focused on my future. But when I come home Siri is still here to greet me with purrs and my room is still the same it was when I left all those months before.

I'll go back to school in a couple days for RA training, get back to obsessing over the future and where I'm going, but for now I'm going to re-visit my childhood.

But Really all I've Ever Wanted to Be Was a Super Hero

My fall is looking pretty busy. I've agreed to be an RA full-time (this happened just today. I was only offered the job a week ago. It's been a whirlwind of a week). I'm going to be a Supervisor at RenXChange for the first time. Also class. And maintaining friendships. Diabetes. Don't forget diabetes.

But despite all this work, I'm really excited. I'm so excited. I really think I'm going to do a good job at everything. I'm confident in my ability to excel at exactly what I've signed up for. My obligations don't sound like chores; they sound like fun that I'm getting paid to do. How awesome is that?

In high school I was busy, too. I had a lot of officer positions: French Honor Society, National Honor Society, Math club. While it was a great starting point to learn how to take charge and lead, I didn't really get anything out of it. I was really just filling up my schedule and putting things on my resume in a kind of soulless sort of way. In hindsight, it's really not surprising that I didn't get in to the "Ivy League" schools. Ivy League schools want people who are passionate about something. People who have picked a cause and raised money for it. People who have started a business and cultivated their entrepreneurial spirit. People who have mastered their talents and obsessed over them to the point of perfection. I didn't have passions like that in high school. That's not a bad thing, or really unsurprising, it's difficult to find something that quickly. I just hadn't found something that was truly that important to me yet. I was forcing myself to do things that sounded like a good idea but at the end of the day were just sucking up my time. It was aimless wandering.

Now I'm finally getting somewhere. I'm letting myself do things that actually sound fun. I'm filling up my time with things that are worthwhile and enjoyable to me. Really, that seems to be the key. The more I do things that get me good experience AND are fun, the closer I get to figuring out what I want and should do with my life.

Don't get me wrong, I have no regrets about my life. I definitely ended up at the perfect school for me, and in hindsight, if I would change anything, I'd apply to less Ivy League-like schools and more schools like RPI. I didn't know what my passions were, yet, but RPI has given me the right opportunities to find them, if only by showing me the kind of people I truly enjoy spending my time around.

I'm figuring out my life. Slowly. But being excited about so many commitments is a huge step in maturity for me. It's hard to overcome the incessant "but all I want to do is STUMBLEUPOOOOONNNNN" voice in my head.

So go ahead and put a little gold star on my chart for me. I'm excited about the person I'm becoming.

I Haven't Bragged About Erik in a While.

"You’re pretty every day. Even if you’re wearing something that isn’t my favorite style, I look at you and think “Wow. She is so pretty.” Every time you look at me I’m a little bit stunned by how pretty you are. Every time, without exception or hyperbole."

I would never encourage girls to find guys so they can validate their prettiness. It's bad habit, and honestly won't fix anything unless you truly believe it yourself. And so often these compliments feel empty. Any other guy, I'd be tempted to think he was just trying to get in my pants, or sick of listening to me babble about my insecurities (though to be fair, I rarely if ever do that), or is just saying it because he thinks "he has to."

But this is Erik, and not a single one of those thoughts occurred to me. No, quite honestly, after reading this, I was humbled so greatly to think that he was dating me. At the same time, I felt fabulous and wonderful, because I knew if I wasn't there's no way he'd waste his time on me. He's efficient like that.

I'm a little bit stunned I found someone as awesome as him.

For The Lulz: An Evaluation

Hello dear readers, nothing profound to report at the moment (though I may put up a post later). Right now I want to talk to you about my little blog here, and how much I think it has grown.

It started off humble, though I tackled some pretty big topics early on (like the creation museum). I've really enjoyed practicing my writing above all else, something I don't get to do enough on this campus. I've vented and explored ideas that I've had. And I've made the occassional joke. I even stirred up some surprising controversy and discussion, which, all things said and done, was pretty cool.

I've pulled from some of my favorite blogs in terms of style and for inspiration. Those blogs, in case you're wondering: The Bloggess (even Erik enjoys her humor, so I feel confident most of you will too), Blag Hag, Cracked, Mike Rowe.

I got a counter for my little corner of the web last week, just curious to see what kind of traffic I'm getting. I expected to maybe get 50 hits within the week, but as of this writing I'm up to 158 (Full discretion: probably 20-ish hits of those are me). I won't exactly declare myself an internet celebrity, but this says to me that I've got a somewhat regular following! Which is more than I ever expected! Wooo!

You might be able to tell from the title (which was kind of a throw-away) that this blog is completely theme-less. I plan on keeping it that way because it allows me to write whatever the heck I feel like without betraying the readers in terms of expectation. However, like Wish-List Wednesday, there are regular sort of posts I've been thinking about doing. And I also considered changing the name to something more meaningfull and less....throw-away. I'd like to consult the potentially ten readers that I have (and maybe a few strangers that wander by) for their opinion regarding these matters.

But I get full veto power. So don't think you're going to be sending me to North Korea any time soon. :P

My themed, semi-regular post ideas:

-Why I don't like Nicolas Cage

-How to be a Total Asshole (And Get Away With It)

-The Voice of Our Generation: Kanye West Quotes

-A Look Into the Life of a Diabetic

-Things You'll Never See on Oprah but Totally Should

-More Series (Like Nomnomnom)

I'm putting up a poll on the site, so if you're viewing this through your google reader, please stop by and let me know what you think. Or make a new suggestion in the comments. A new poll for blog title ideas will be up when I think this poll is done. Which could be tomorrow or two months from now.

And Mother Nature Will Be Like "Slooooow Doooown"

I'm 20-years-old, female, and in a long-term relationship. Facebook has decided it's time I get married:

REALLY.

It's bad enough that a bunch of my friends are getting married and the reaction from the general public is "Congratulations!" not "..oh." Am I really that old? Is this ACTUALLY happening?

Don't even get me started on how some of my friends are pregnant. PREGNANT. My uterus just got angry at me. It ALSO thought I was not yet supposed to be pregnant. Now it knows it can be. Now it's upset with me for not trying harder in this endeavor. hfdsahf.

This completely blows my mind. Please don't misinterpret this rant, it's not that I'm looking down on other people's life choices. If they're happy, fine. I just somehow missed the memo on how old I was and how it's legitimate for people my age to be having families.

I'm not ready for this. I tend to think of myself as relatively mature, yet apparently everyone else is light years ahead of me when it comes to life planning. I don't even know what I want to do with my life, let alone plan weddings and get cribs. Ahhh it makes my head want to blow up.

I really did think I wouldn't have to deal with the, "When are you getting married?" questions until I was at least thirty. Facebook has proved me wrong multiple times before ("No, I don't consider myself a stalker!") and this is just once more.

Please someone pause my life for a moment. I need a breather.

Jesus is a pretty cool guy. He forgives people and doesn't afraid of anything.

I'm not a fan of religion. At all. I've touched on this briefly before, and don't want to delve in to why. The arguments are numerous and painful for multiple reasons. So for now, let's all accept that I don't like religion and never wish to have it as a part of my life. I'm happier for it.

I'm fortunate to be on a campus surrounded by people who understand this, even if they don't agree. I've never been attacked or ridiculed for it (I should probably say yet, but I like to be an optimist).

Those that don't agree with me (my family included) often cite the ways that religion has helped people, including themselves. It's given them a purpose, a reason to try to be a better person. The hopeful, optimistic message gives them a better outlook on life than they believe they could have without religion.

I understand that. I do. But probably the hardest part about turning away from my religion has been feeling like I turned away from a friend: Jesus.

I really did feel like Jesus understood life. He understood me. He wasn't judgmental, he wasn't hateful. He didn't hate gay people, or black people, or feminists. He didn't hate women for getting abortions. He didn't hate Obama.

In fact, I believe that Jesus loves me for what I believe. He loves me for trying to be a good person, and for staying true to myself. He loves my sense of humor. He loves my sometimes bizarre passion for capitalism. He loves how much I love my cat.

I've lost my faith, and I feel happier for it. My life is simpler, and freer. It is up to me to make a purpose for myself. I'm not held down to meaningless doctrines, I don't have to reconcile my love of humanity with the hate of those higher up.

I haven't lost my faith in Jesus, though, because honestly, Jesus had nothing to do with Christianity to me. Jesus, in my mind, in the faith I practiced all those years (which arguably, despite what even I thought, was not Catholicism), Jesus was someone that we all strived to be. Jesus was the good guy. He was full of love, compassion, and forgiveness. He was the person I want to be.

I don't know who Jesus really was. Son of god? Mary Magdalene's lover? A hypocrite? I don't know, and frankly, it's not important. Jesus is whoever I want him to be. I could probably name him whatever, base him off of any historical figure (Abe Lincoln? Einstein?). I think I chose Jesus because he's already accepted as a pacifist and all around cool dude. There's enough mystery around him that there are no facts. It gives me a good base to mold him into whatever I want, and force myself into believing I'm right. Anything anyone else says just further proves their delusion.

It's comforting to think that someone, somewhere, really was a genuinely good person. There's no little known facts about him embezzling money, or secretly being a racist. He's untouched, and he's lovely. That, more than anything religion has taught or will teach, gives me hope.

What Am I Gunna DO.

This morning Erik and I were sitting in his car about to head into his apartment when I saw a little chipmunk. My reaction was pretty much:

We sat and watched the chipmunk crawling around, and then there was a squirrel nearby and we watched that, and there were also some birds and stuff. Basically we watched an animal breakfast buffet.

It sounds boring and dumb, and rightfully so. To a lot of people it probably is. But it was enjoyable! I feel so lucky that I have someone in my life I can be myself around, completely unhindered. I didn't have to stop myself from pointing out the chipmunk, or laughing at it just doing nothing. I'm a ridiculous and silly person, and not only does he not mind that, he genuinely likes it.

Quite a wonderful feeling.

Books I Wish I Didn't Read

Or at least hadn't been allowed to read for a little while.

I hate the idea of censorship. My parents were very liberal with me growing up, talking to me about sex and violence at a pretty young age, essentially answering any questions I asked. It was a good strategy, especially for me, because not only did it build a sense of trust between me and them, but it ensured that I would not learn this information from other, less trustworthy people, hearing it in an unhealthy context or learning just downright lies.

I came across a website listing band books that people should read and it really made me think about the books that I read as a child. Harry Potter and the Narnia Chronicles spring to mind quickly, along with a plethora of required reading from school. However, one book and one story particularly stand out in my mind, as I don't think I should have been allowed to read them at such a young age.

A Bridge to Terabithia, by Katherine Paterson, on the aforementioned list, really bothered me. I read it when I was about ten or twelve, around the same age as the characters in the book. This made it all the harder when (spoiler alert) the young girl dies. I wasn't prepared for that, and it really affected me. It made me think pretty dark thoughts for that age, and though it was a good book, I really wish I'd been older when I read it. With a little more life experience and understanding, I think the death would have been easier to deal with.

"The Lottery," by Shirley Jackson is about a village basically drawing straws to see who gets stoned to death. The entire story you don't know what's going on, you just know that people are really excited to not be winning, and little children are gathering piles of rocks in anticipation. I read this in class as required reading. We read this story out loud. I'm not sure if it was the fact that the entire community killed the woman, or that no one else in class seemed bothered, but it greatly affected me. It took me a couple days to wrap my head around it and move on.

I was probably a particularly sensitive kid growing up, and maybe because of events like my mom having breast cancer and being diagnosed with diabetes I felt more closely connected to the issue of death. I would never recommend "banning" books, especially not for the reasons people ever want to, but I think it's important to take a child's age in to account when determining whether they're ready for certain concepts.

It reminds me of a relatively recent issue in my old school district. A woman was petitioning to get The Giver by Lois Lowry banned from the elementary schools. Her fourth-grader had to read the book as a class assignment, and according to the mother, she was very bothered by the issue of euthanasia.

Gee, I can't imagine why. It's not like adults aren't bothered by it, or anything. It's not like we don't argue every day as to whether it's okay or not. It's not like someone who has been taught consistently that murder is wrong would ever have an issue with "acceptable" murder.

"The Giver" is FANTASTIC, and I loved reading it as a freshman in high school. The fact is that there are some questions that children simply aren't READY to ask. They need to be asked, and they will be, but when they're ready.

Censorship is bad, but I think discretion is different and necessary. If a child has a question, it means she's ready to talk about the issue and hear the answer. If a child is forced to hear the question and then the answer, the results may not be as pleasant or healthy.

Makes me realize how hard parenting is. :|

To My Mother,

Happy Mother's Day to everybody, especially my mom, who puts up with me not calling her and being a really weird, sometimes awkward kid. I love you!

(Picture from PostSecret)

Dia-BEAT-this (lol)

When I tell someone for the first time I have diabetes, I try to be understanding. There's the initial shock, the processing as the person tries to recall everything they know about diabetes, and the momentary panic when they realize all of their information comes from nightly news stories about obesity and Wilford Brimley commercials. I'd like to inform everybody that that's OKAY. The fact that you don't know anything means you're life has not been afflicted in any way, and that's a good thing.

I don't mind when you ask stupid questions. I don't care if you mix up type 1 and type 2. And I won't get mad if you confuse my insulin pump with a beeper.

I don't care because I find myself in the same situation all the time. A friend may mention that a sibling has autism, or that their parent suffers from epilepsy, or that they had cancer when they were younger. I mean, really, if you can't relate, what can you possibly say?

What I find interesting is that I get two very different reactions.

I get the understandable, "Oh, that sucks." Naturally. This is a DISEASE we're talking about.

But interestingly, people will also say "Oh, that's cool." And not in a dismissive "I have nothing else to say," kind of way, but in an "I actually find this interesting and it's cool that your pancreas doesn't work" sort of way.

You'd think this is offensive, but it's not! It's weird people say this, and kind of funny in an awkward sort of way, but honestly it IS a little cool. And I find I want to say the same thing to others when in this position. Don't get me wrong, it also sucks, but I totally get the sentiment behind what they're saying. Especially at an engineering school, where I get this a lot.

Every day, I get to play around with thousands of dollars worth of technology. I keep up with the research and the advancements going on in the field. I'm experimenting on myself to perfect my treatment. I've basically been a scientist since I was 11-years-old. And yes, that's cool.

Do I suggest you tell diabetics it's cool they have diabetes? No. You will definitely get smacked. And maybe make somebody cry. Not every diabetic has a similar outlook as I do. But I get where you're coming from. Even though they suck, diseases are interesting. My diabetes makes me knowledgeable on a personal, in-depth level of a couple sciences. My diabetes gives me an interesting perspective on different areas of life, like stem cell research and health care. I assume that most diseases have a similar affect on other people, and I want to know how! I'm dying to understand what it's like to be you, and I'm dying to explain what it's like to be me. The world will surely benefit from our exchange of information.

And THAT is definitely cool.

I understand people's desire for privacy, and that it's really nobody else's business what their disease is like. But I would much rather have someone ask me questions and learn more than to either 1. pretend I didn't just drop this on you, because that's awkward or 2. pretend you DO know everything about diabetes.

Oh my god. Please don't get me started on the second one.

When you are ignorant, that's fine. Just be aware of it. Things to watch out for:

1. Seeing it on Oprah does NOT make you educated.

2. The news was almost certainly talking about type 2.

3. Your science class did not even sort of give you the big picture. Fantastic, you know what insulin is. You're still ignorant to the huge web of information that is diabetes.

4. Being a medical professional, or the relative of a medical professional, does not make you knowledgeable of diabetes. I assure you that myself and anyone I've ever met don't fit the textbook definition. Not even close.

There's really no good way to have that initial conversation, because everybody will respond differently. All I can tell you is, when you see me, always know you can feel free to ask me anything. Less ignorance is never a bad thing.

OLD JOKE IS OLD

Dear whomever is graffiti-ing the campus with "The cake is a lie":

OLD JOKE IS SUPER DUPER FANTASTICALLY OLD.

I don't know what corner of the internet you guys have been living in for the past three years, but this joke is not funny. Casual mentioning of the joke is arguably humorous. Maybe even ONE graffiti instance of it wouldn't be so bad. But everywhere, guys? It's like you just realized there are these things called "memes" on the internet, and they're funny because you use them repeatedly and are big inside jokes with a large amount of people.

Clearly, you're not in that large amount of people.

Look, if you want to be nerdy, at least do it right. Don't make the rest of us nerdy people facepalm and regret being associated with you. You're ruining nerdy things for the rest of us.

So stop.

Love,

Chelsea

Friendship: The Barney Episode I Guess I Missed

How do you value friendship?

It's something that came up today in a conversation with my friend, Steve. I think about it often because it's always been apparent to me that I'm different from most people in this regard.

First, I'm THE MOST stereotypical only child. I had a gaggle of imaginary friends when I was younger (yeah, we'll go with that, "when I was younger") and seriously need my alone time.

Second, my parents are wonderful people but I think when they found each other, they were very happy with their relationship and didn't bother to build up their own circle of friends. Consequently, I never did this either.

Third, I am a perfectly independent person and for awhile felt no "need" for friends.

That last one is the one that changed when I got to college.

That's not to say I DIDN'T have friends in high school, I definitely did, a lot of them I still talk to. I just found it easier to talk to my parents most of the time, and therefore felt no dependence on my friends at school. Friends were nice, they were never a necessity.

Now that I'm three hours away and can't talk to my parents as readily, I've had to make friends not just for fun but because I really did NEED them.

Making friends isn't easy for me because I don't trust easily. My experience indicates that people generally trust someone until given a reason not to. I, however, don't trust anyone until given a reason to. My trust is earned, it should never, EVER be assumed.

Since I have a stronger need for friends now more than ever, I've had to let my guard down and open up to people more. I've been lucky that I chose a school with mostly people like me, so when I feel the need to spill my guts, people get it. I have felt multiple times that my trust has not been given in vain. I'm starting to understand the rewards that really come with friendship, and learn why we really need them. Seems weird to only figure this out now, at 20, but I guess better now than later.

The hardest part has been learning how to BE a good friend, though, not just HAVING good friends. Like, I should be willing to talk to my friends when they're feeling crappy, and be understanding of them. That's hard for me because my bullshit radar will sometimes go off and I'm tempted to turn into the dad from That 70's Show.

But I'm learning. And I'm getting there.

It's funny how there are some 5-year-olds out there better at this than me. >.>