Halloween Good. No Halloween Bad.

I love Halloween. I love dressing up, I love trick-or-treating, and I love the spookiness and quasi-chaos of Halloween night. Not that my participation extends beyond handing out candy anymore (obviously), but I fully support anyone who does.

My favourite halloween scene is in Meet Me In St. Louis - the Judy Garland flick famous for “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," ironically On Halloween night all the children of a middle-class neighbourhood take to the streets in bizarre gender-bending costumes. They throw old furniture into a giant bonfire, dance, and make oaths to “kill” certain adults in town (“killing” means throwing flour in a person’s face and saying “I hate you!”). It’s kid anarchy! And all of this is done with the knowledge and consent of their parents. Whether or not it's based on reality, I think this is what Halloween should be: a safe time and place for kids to go crazy.

Another reason why I like Halloween is that all the ghosts and zombies and goblins remind us of our mortality. Maybe this is stretching it a bit, but I really think it’s true! Some day our flesh will rot and we will be skeletons (if we’re not cremated, that is). But I’m not really sure if our society needs any more sensational reminders of death (we have three CSI’s, after all). I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I just thought I should come out as a Halloween-loving Christian.

Nothing Doing

I heard a rumour that people from Maple Ridge don’t “blog” enough, so I thought I’d better post today since I haven’t done so since Monday. You know, it makes sense that we should be blogging every day because so much happens here in Maple Ridge. It’s just a hotbed of excitement.

Do you ever have times when you don’t feel anything? Emotions, I mean. Sometimes I do and it’s a bit disconcerting. As a, um, woman , I’m used to often feeling several things all at once. So I don’t like it when no strong feelings are being registered in my brain. Of course my dislike of not feeling isn’t very strong, because, of course, I can’t really feel. Annoying.

I've learned not to put much faith in my emotions anyways. I know that they’re fleeting; only a vague translation of what’s actually in my heart. Not that I think emotions come from my heart either - I know they come from my brain and hormones (those evil chemicals that try to control a person). What I’m trying to say is that emotions are meaningless. They don’t tell us anything about how we should act or even about what we really want.

So it’s actually good when I don’t feel anything. The world should seem clearer and I should be able to make rational decisions. It’s just a bit boring.

I Can Be a Fan!

So I went to the Canucks game on Saturday night and, I have to say, I had fun. Granted, I did spend quite a lot of time making fun of hockey culture with my dad, and I zoned out more than a few times (I missed most of the goals). But the moments when I was paying attention, I was into it. I cheered along with everyone else; I booed; I did the wave. Just in case there’s anyone out there who thinks I am incapable of appreciating hockey.

One thing I don’t get: why do the players body-check each other so randomly? They could be no where near the puck when one player shoves another into the boards, eliciting cheers or boos from the crowd. What’s with that?

The astonishing thing to me is how thousands of people can make exactly the same vowel sound at exactly the same moment! Everyone seems to know instinctively when an “aaaahhhh,” or an “ooohhhhhh,” or an “oooooo” is required. Amazing. It would make a fascinating study for Professor Higgins.

Of Mice and Lady Macbeth

I decided to change the name of my blog on the suggestion of by roommate's boyfriend. "Marla Mouse" was a nickname my uncle gave me when I was little, and I didn't give it much thought when I named the blog. But it has started to bother me, because it suggests (as Jason said) meekness (which is not necessarily a bad thing), and quietness (also can be good) and fear (definitely not good). It's disheartening when I see how I've lived up to the childhood nickname. I have never wanted to be timid and shy, but that's how I've turned out.

In my last year at UBC I took a Shakespeare class which was, unquestionably, the best class I've ever taken. Despite my enjoyment and enthusiasm for the course, I didn't say anything the whole two terms. I just sat there, dumbly, listening but not contributing. Literally no sounds came out of my mouth in that class, except for when we did a mandatory performance and I was Lady Macbeth - I had memorized the part by heart - and I completely forgot every word and had to read it (there's NO way I was convincing as the “unsexed" power whore!). It really just comes down to a fear of rejection.

But no more, I say. I will be a contributer. I will give voice to my various (and often contradictory) thoughts and opinions! No more intimidation! Thanks Jason.

Career Caper

When I was little, my parents told me that I could do anything I wanted. When you’re young, and growing up is so far away, this is exhilarating. I used to daydream about myself in every career imaginable, and my aspirations were usually acted out by my Barbie dolls (she could be a secret agent, an architect, and a fairy princess all in one day!). If I could do anything, then I could do everything! Once I got a little bit older, though, this idea became a bit overwhelming. I had so many interests, how was I going to settle on one occupation?

When I was a teenager, I recognised these tendencies in myself. So I decided to lock into a career path, to prevent myself from changing my mind. All through high school I was focused on one single career goal: to be a doctor. I never thought of doing anything else. At the end of my first term as a science undergrad, I made the decision to switch to Arts and give up on becoming a doctor. I could never really figure out how I was going to breeze through medical school, spend a year abroad, get married, and have three kids by the time I was 26 anyway. Plus I had just flunked my Chemistry final spectacularly. I remember walking around campus in a daze as a world of opportunity literally opened up before me. What could I do now? It was terribly exciting.

The frustrating thing is that I have barely moved from that spot in the last seven years. I finished an English BA, I’ve traveled, I’ve made some money - but no real progress towards a vocation. I have considered that maybe I don’t really want a career; that maybe all I really want to do is work until I get married and have babies. But I know that kids grow up, and I really have no desire to be one of those moms with grown-up kids who fills her weekdays with coffee dates and shopping at Winners. Plus I want to be able to DO something - to make a contribution in some field. I just haven’t stopped daydreaming about every career imaginable. I’m afraid that if I choose something, I’ll regret it and wish I had chosen something else.

It’s funny how paralysing it is to have someone tell you that you can do anything. Sometimes I think that having more options has actually restricted me. I almost wish that someone would block off all my opportunities so that I would be forced into some vocation, or at least rebel. I think that’s one of the things I like about Victorian novels: the heroines have only two “career” options, so anything above or beyond them is an achievement. So maybe I’m just lazy. And I can’t commit.

After perusing and commenting on many different friends’ blogs, I thought I had better stop being a blog moocher and start my own. This has several perks, such as: I can write about whatever I like; I can have the final say on everything; and, I can write about myself as much as I like. The drawbacks are, of course: no one may want to read my blog or post any comments; I will have to make posts on a regular basis; and, I can’t really be too personal since that would only alienate readers. So, it looks as though I will have fight my dictatorial urges. Yes, I believe that is the key to successful blogging. I declare this blog to be a democracy, with me as president. And as its president I will endeavor to make my posts as interesting as possible. I can only write what I know or experience personally - which isn’t very much; anything beyond that is speculation. I don’t actually know yet what I will write about, but will try particularly hard not to turn this into a forum for my venting. It’s really not fun to listen to someone vent. I will, of course, do my utmost to maintain the highest quality of spelling and grammar, although I don’t necessarily expect the same from potential commenters (not wanting to alienate anyone, remember). Finally, I will not allow my posts to become angry, vengeful, spiteful, or in any way hurtful to people. Commenters may, however, be all of the above if they wish. Isn’t that kind of me? I’m an awfully good president.