Life is a community. Upon waking in the morning, to sharing a meal with family in the evening, life as a whole is a community of people in specific places, partaking in predetermined events. However, response, an attribute of living, is not predetermined. When shopping at a mall, customers are typically greeted upon entering a store. Their reaction could be to ignore the sales associate, or to engage in a warm, friendly conversation, inquiring about the best quality shoe the store has to offer. As we can see, the customer's response was given out of free-will. However, the sales associate had greeted the customer by due nature that his job required it, regardless of his willingness to do so. And despite all this, these minimal interactions hold up the shopping environment.
A common interest of living would be to sustain the very life held by an individual. Breath, eat, and sleep. The three things people know how to do upon entering the world, somehow are the very things that people need to do in order to properly sustain life, healthfully.
Individuals, given their free-will, have the ability to make their own decisions (though they may not always have the freedom to do so). This is when living becomes difficult. Racial, political, and religious disputes often tear people apart, causing them to question the very purpose of their own life. In history, governments have been seen to dictate which religions are 'allowed', and which are not. Socially, individuals do this almost daily. They may have their disputes about different religions, questioning another individual's values in life. Though sometimes felt as necessary, it is not pleasant, nor is it always beneficial. This most certainly leads to revolts, rebellion, gossip, and malice.
I, myself, have seen life as an experience. Not always enjoyable, but one I am happy to partake in. I fill the position I was born into: me. My own values, beliefs, ethnicity, gender, marital status, annual income, and the car I drive all define who I am and what I represent within this life. Some of these things I have chosen, and the others have been chosen for me. Even my name. Life is a community within itself, and certainly one that any individual, having ever lived, has experienced.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
How to Misguide a Stalker
I like to consider myself a minimalist. My clothes cover all of the appropriate regions, layer when needed, and never glorify an animal textured, sequin-aholic wardrobe. I choose to carry my textbooks on campus as opposed to wearing a backpack. As a general rule, I choose to avoid carrying bags, purses, or anything ‘extra’ whenever possible – my hands and pockets serve as a perfect haven for all of my things.
The ‘wallet’ I carry is not technically a wallet. To be specific, it is a legitimate J. Crew Inside-Out Vachetta Wallet. (Google it.)Mine just happens to be patterned with brown and pink paisley print, and accented with tan leather slots. On one side, the two slots hold my debit card and a Borders Rewards card. The other side holds my ATM card, as well as my library card. Presumably, any stalker would assume that I would enjoy reading often. Wrong. I do enjoy a casual skim over the weekly comics a few times a year, but I’m not devoted enough of a reader to fully invest any intended use of my electronic cards on books.
The inner straps of my wallet contain valuable information. On one side, my driver’s license securely lays on top of my health insurance and (proof of) car insurance cards. (I make sure to keep copies of my car insurance card in my car’s owner’s manual (located in my glove box), in a file in my closet, and on my person.) I want to be sure I have all the necessary documents when that glorious day comes and I’m asked to provide my license, insurance, and registration. (Thus far, I have yet to be pulled over.)
The other inner strap of my ‘magic wallet’ (as been dubbed by some) holds my sentimental punch card for Burger Mill. How I miss living in Marysville. Well, not really. But I do miss my 1/3 Pound Bacon Cheeseburger (with extra tartar sauce on the side) and a LARGE Chocolate Shake. The only other punch card in my wallet is for Fantastic Sam’s. It’s my way of indirectly saying, “I take care of my hair,” without showing myself to anyone. They can just simply fumble through my things and count, endlessly, the stamps placed on my hair-cut card. (I have only four more stamps until a free cut!)
The most meaningful (and powerful) statement in my wallet would happen to be the business card from Kay Jewelers, delicately slipped beneath my punch cards. I am not employed, nor have I ever been employed, at or by Kay Jewelers. However, they did offer me a job. The Kay Jewelers manager had been shopping at the store I worked in – naturally, I helped her with her needs and made sure she was taken care of. She was so thrilled with my level of customer service that she came back to me the next day and offered me a job! She discretely handed me her business card with a sticker on the back stating, “I like your work style! We may have a brilliant career opportunity for you. If you are interested, call me in confidence.” I was happy to be noticed, but I had to decline her offer. My place was at my parent’s store; as I explained this to her, she understood, but still desired my presence.
As I’ve already explained, my wallet is no sure way for any amateur stalker to understand what I am like, or how I operate. My Borders Rewards and library cards are simply filling in slots on my wallet. I have no desire to use them on a regular basis, nor do I intend to remove them from where they reside. My driver’s license may give stalkers information concerning my physical appearance, but they will never be able to track me down. (I have not resided at the documented address on my license for about 18 months now.) Procrastination? Maybe. Or possibly a deliberate intention to misguide, confuse, or even confumble (and yes, confumble is a word. I created it several months ago while updating my facebook status) the most determined of stalkers. Unless a stalker knew me outside of my wallet, he would have no idea how brilliantly misleading I am. (Go ahead. Applaud. I’ve just informed you of how to avoid being stalked at the expense of misplacing your personal things.)
Friday, January 7, 2011
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