Valkyrie

Ever since grade school, the topic of World War II has fascinated me.
Naturally, I figured the just released Tom Cruise movie Valkyrie would be amazing.
Eh. It was forgettable. The entire movie was based on the German soldiers and what
went on behind the scenes in the mid 1940's. Perhaps because everyone knows
what went on in Hitler's concentration camps during WWII directors decided to leave
footage out of Jews going through hell on earth, but I feel it has everything to do
with the time period and topic of the movie. I found it hard to take Cruise
seriously after his part in Tropic Thunder this summer with all of its comical props
and humorous scenes. Throughout the sequence of Valkyrie Cruise wears an eye
patch and carries a glass eye with him everywhere he goes, all while only surviving
with one arm and two fingers on his left hand.I don't mean to
downplay war injuries. I realize they are a serious issue. I just found it a bit overdone.
The actor who played Hitler did a phenomenal job. It was a truly eerie
comparison. Hitler was hardly ever shown, and when he was his resemblance
was a spot-on match to the pictures shown in hisotory books and movies. The
filming aspect was phenomenal. It's Cruise I can't get over.
Maybe it's the fact that Hollywood likes to poke fun at him and wife Katie
Holmes, or perhaps it's the fact that in every picture of him Cruise has that
cheesy smile. I just was not impressed with Valkyrie at all.
I give it 1 star.

Dreams

I awoke the other night in the middle of a dream that I was about to move back into the house I originally grew up in. It was one of the best dreams of my entire life but in the middle of the night I couldn't help but wish it were true. How many people still live in the houses they grew up in? Does anyone else feel this same longing?
In my life, I have lived in 4 different houses, and 4 different apartments. Never has it been harder for me to leave any of them than it was to leave the house I lived and did most of my growing up in in Frewsburg, NY. It was a small three bedroom ranch with one bathroom. In the back was roughly an acre of land to play in and the very back and right sides were lined with pine trees that we used to crawl under and make bets as to who could actually climb to the very top of one. No one ever tried. My sister, Chelsea, and I both had our own maple trees that we would climb on summer days/nights and hide in during hide and seek. If you climbed close to the very top of Chelsea's tree you could watch the sun set in an opening of the leaves. On the other side of the pine trees were miles and miles of corn field. It seemed like miles and miles because it took forever to get to the other side. In actuality the entire length of the corn field was probably half a mile; a thousand miles to a 7-year-old.
The other day in the apartment I live in now, I was in the kitchen and I looked down at the floor tiles. For some reason I was hit with a wave of nostolgia but couldn't figure out why. After a couple of days spent mulling it over, I realized that the tiles in my apartment now are the same tiles that lined the floor of the first house's basement. Tiles that we tap-danced on. Tiles that we would slide on in our socks. And the carpet? It was this outrageous orange/red that somehow worked with the wooden paneling that lined the walls of most 90's homes.
Something that I think fondly of about sometimes is the land we played on. The big field that belonged to the people that lived on the corner of Frew Run and Carrol that never minded the hours we spent playing kickball in their field. The field that hosted a tree that dropped mysteriously huge seeds that no one could open. I can still smell them, green and potent, falling in the late summer. The field where Janelle kicked Jared in the testicles in third grade. The field everyone would meet at at the end of the school year to discuss who their teacher would be for the following fall. "You got Mrs. 'so and so'?! I heard she's got a knife in her desk and she smokes in the bathroom!!" God, what I would give to go back for just one day.
When I was 9, we moved to North Carolina and I haven't seen the house for a couple of years. I would give almost anything to own that house or visit it, or spend a day in it, though it wouldn't be the same. It never is. The only thing that ever stays the same in this world is change.

Nakedness

Unlike a dog, how can a turtle ever be naked?
Nakedness involves a state of mind in which an organism feels comfortable (or embarassed) in its own skin. This can even occur with clothes on, or when not in possession of something which ensures comfort. i.e. I feel naked without my phone. A turtle would be naked without a shell.

Haunted Houses; Why so Thrilling?

Haunted houses. You know the drill. Driving to that suburban or rural fire department, haunted house hot-spot that supposedly is the best haunted house in the whole area, with your friends or significant other. On the way, there is talk about how scary it's going to be and how terrified you hope to become. What an oxymoron. Who would ever want to be scared? And, what makes haunted houses so enticing?

It's a thrill similar to horror movies. It seems as though most studies have shown that people enjoy that the horror ends in relief due to the fact that what they've experienced hasn't truly happened.

According to sciencedaily.com, investigators generally use one of two theories to explain why people like horror movies and haunted houses. The first is that the person is not actually afraid, but excited by the horror. The second explanation is that they are willing to endure the terror in order to enjoy a euphoric sense of relief at the end. But, a new study by Eduardo Andrade (University of California, Berkeley) and Joel B. Cohen (University of Florida) appearing in the August issue of the Journal of Consumer Research argues that neither of these theories is correct.

The authors argue that horror movie viewers are happy to be unhappy. This novel approach to emotion reveals that people experience both negative and positive emotions simultaneously -- people may actually enjoy being scared, not just relief when the threat is removed. As the authors put it, "the most pleasant moments of a particular event may also be the most fearful."
Andrade and Cohen developed and utilize a new methodology to track negative and positive feelings at the same time. Their method could apply to other experiences that seem to elicit terror, risk, or disgust, such as extreme sports.
"When individuals who typically choose to avoid the stimuli were embedded in a protective frame of mind, such that there was sufficient psychological disengagement or detachment, they experienced positive feelings while still experiencing fearfulness," the authors claim.

This would explain why we enjoy haunted houses so much. There is a pleasant relief after experiencing fake terror. Last night, two of my roommates and some friends of ours went to two separate haunted houses, the Belle Valley Fire Department's haunted house, and the Wesleyville Halls of Fear. Belle Valley's was scary due to the fact that the halls were extremely narrow and we never knew what to expect or where we were headed. It was so scary, but as we made our way through, screaming and terrified out of our minds by the actors and props, I experienced an adrenalin rush like I've never felt before. And after, I laughed.

Next, we went to Wesleyville. It didn't even compare to Belle Valley, perhaps because we knew what we were in for. Still, I found myself laughing uncontrollably after the relief. It's amazing how good it feels to sense those emotions. So, I suggest Belle Valley for a good scare, but bring a friend. And if you really want to be freaked out, try Conneaut Lake's 8-story haunted house. I hear attendees must tour it by themselves, and aren't allowed to bring an acquaintance...

Depression

It was about a year ago that it began for me. Sophomore year of college. I was ready for anything, or so I thought. Little did I know that I was about to be hit hard with the reality of a disease I knew I'd been battling my entire life. It can come out of nowhere, and it can go in spurts; Depression.

"I am not depressed."

It's a phrase I kept saying over and over again. I kept trying to convince myself that it wasn't real and there wasn't anything wrong with me and that it would pass. And then, I hit rock bottom. It happens every day to millions of Americans across the nation. Some deal with it and get help, and some don't.

According to PBS.org, major depression affects approximately 15 million American adults ages 18 and over every year, and women experience depression about twice as often as men.

Though sometimes it doesn't feel like it, a depressed person is not alone.

I was there. I said that no one understood and no one ever would, and it's true that no one can experience what you are feeling, but the fact that you are feeling it doesn't mean that no one else is.

It's like being physically sick. Where do you go? The doctor.

Where do you go when you are mentally sick? The doctor.

Getting help is the first step, and it does take alot to admit that you're having problems. Everyone wants to believe that everything will be okay, and it's true: everything will be okay. That's what getting help is about.

Roughly 80% of people experiencing depression are not currently receiving treatment (pbs.org). Think about it. Of the 15 million Americans that do get help, there are still so many out there that aren't being treated.

When I hit rock bottom, I knew it and I knew something was wrong. I knew I had to talk to someone, and I did. I talked to my best friend at the time for about 5 hours in the crisp fall air on a bench in the middle of Mercyhurst and she encouraged me to go to the health center, which is free (helloooo). I remember bawling at 5 in the morning, thinking to myself, how can things get worse?

After getting help and talking to someone professionally, I began to improve. I'm also on an anti-depressant called Paxil which really helps things alot.

The purpose of this post is to help people realize that it's okay to admit you have a problem. I used to think to myself, "I have a great life and I have nothing to be sad about. Why do I feel this way?"

There is nothing you can do about a chemical imbalance. Sometimes the only place to turn is medicine, therapy and counseling, and look at the improvements in medical technology today. We live in an amazing country and those of you who attend Mercyhurst should be aware that the Cohen Student Health Center is an amazing facility that exists for a reason other than physical needs.

Don't let depression bother you for another minute if it's something you're dealing with. You're not alone, and people are here to help you. Talk to a friend, a parent, a teacher.. anyone who will hear you out, listen, and encourage you. It's okay. Things are going to be okay.

Hold on.

Vice Presidential Debate

That was so intense!
First, some commic relief:
As I sat on my couch with a bowl of macaroni and cheese on my lap (which you will find is my favorite food), I couldn't decide what to think about Sarah Palin's Alaskan, backwoods accent. I can't lie, it sparked a couple of jokes between my roommate and me.

"Whell ya knoe, ya can't just tak the tak and not walk the walk. And hellou to that third grade class out in Glenwood, (with a non-chalant wink at the camera guy)."

At this point in the debate (the school shout-out part), I almost lost my macaroni because I was laughing so hard, not only at her accent (which she can't help, I guess) but at the things she said and the off-the-path way she said them. It was almost as if the lights were on but no one was home. I realize she must have been nervous debating against a man as intimidating as Joe Biden, but it felt more impersonal than I expected.

They say that most news anchors try to speak to the camera as if they were speaking to one person on the other end of the screen rather than a large crowd. I felt like she was reading off of a telepromptor, and though she didn't act nervous in front of that crowd and millions of Americans as well, I felt as if her side of the debate was very dull and impersonal, not to mention off topic most of the time.

Biden on the other hand made me feel as if he was fighting for what he believes in, not just saying what I wanted to hear. I didn't feel like he acted at all like he had to impress anyone. He simply presented his opinions, and he did it in a manor that did impress me. Maybe it's the fact that he's a bit older and seemingly more experienced than Palin that sweeps me off my feet. Or, it could be that he acts like he knows what he's talking about that charms me, and I'm starting to believe that maybe he does. I appreciated the fact that he was able to make an emotional connection with viewers/listeners when he spoke about his wife and daughter, and I found it kind of disheartening when Palin continued to ramble about topics that were not only non-related, but completely off-topic of the question asked originally.

Throughout the debate, I found it hard to agree with things Palin said. This is how I view her: I am her troubled niece, America, (not her daughter because we all know what's going on there), and she is an aunt (a vice presidential candidate in actuality) that I see on occasion every now and then. When I am in the worst of times (which we are right now) I feel like she tries to advise me on what I should/shouldn't do, but I don't think she really knows what she's talking about. I feel like she's been told by my parents (McCain) what she should say.

She annoys me, and that's the conclusion I've come to tonight.
I'm so annoyed by her lack of personal connection and it's having a major affect on who
I will or won't vote for come November 4th.
And what happens if the worst should occur; McCain dies or is assassinated?
That's a topic for a different blog.

Am I the only one in this boat?

"Are you registered to vote?" A question I've been asked several times in the past month. Never have I ever been so curious about what the future holds for America. I've also never voted or been concerned about elections and such until now. I should have been concerned a long time before this, but seeing as how I am now legally able to vote, I have taken serious interest in what's going to happen in the coming months.
I am a registered Democrat, but lately I've been wondering if that's what I really am. In doing my homework on potential presidents Obama and McCain, it's been hard finding information that isn't one-sided.
I have been watching Hardball with Chris Matthews.
I've watched live news coverage and speeches.
I've been reading up on both candidates' plans for our sad economy and watched broadcasters explain what's really going on.
None of these has helped me decide on who to vote for, because they all seem to simply bash the opposing candidate. I want to be fair.
"If only I could find objective information on these two men! I watch and watch and read and watch, but I'm learning nothing but bad things about each one!" I screamed at Chris Matthews last Tuesday. Okay, I didn't really say it out loud, but I thought it.
So, seeing as how election day is one month and eleven days away, I decided to do some concrete searching on the internet, and it didn't take me long to find a useful site with profiles of Obama and McCain. The website is as follows.
http://projects.washingtonpost.com/2008-presidential-candidates/
Am I the only one in this boat, though?
And, are you registered to vote?


In my next post, I will talk about voting statistics and the importance of YOUR vote. :)

Better Late than Never

So, since the weekend is now over, and a new week is beginning, I have decided to overview my Friday.

If you have ever fallen in the mud, (literally) you know that there is an awkward silence right after the fall. Whether it's because you're worried about who else might have seen it, or what to do next, it's similar to the silence experienced after a car accident (of which I have been through three times..)

So, on Friday morning, I was to be at work at 11 o'clock.

I wake up, and groggily stare at the alarm clock. Big. Red. Numbers.

12:15

I jump out of bed and throw something on and (without brushing my teeth..disgusting) run out the door in my flip flops. It's been raining. All morning. Unfortunately I overlook this crucial fact and keep running..up a hill..of mud.

There are two girls who see me fall, and in the silence I try to stay on my feet but this just isn't going to happen. So, giving in to the inevitable force of gravity I let myself fall.

I pull myself up and sit indian style, studying the mud up and down my legs and arms as the two girls ask if I'm okay.

"Yeah.. I'm late for work," I complain.

"Well, at least it happened now, and not later," they reply.

There is no time to waste. My keys are caked and I get them jammed in the door as some angel comes out of nowhere and helps me yank them out.

I change frantically and arrive to work at 12:30 to my manager, bug-eyed and shocked.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

"It's a long story."

"Well," she says, calmly, "You take everything that's coming in and help bus."

She later gave me a hug.

Though she might not have known it, the fact that she was able to overlook it that I was an hour and a half late and give me a simple hug in a time of dismay really meant alot to me.

I don't like to bring my emotions to work and I sure as hell hate being late.

"Hey you. Where ya been? You're never late." Says my other manager as I squish a drop of mud left behind between my toes in my right shoe.

"Better late than never," I reply.

I was late to class that day too, by half an hour. I honestly feel like the world cut me a break that day. My professor could have cared less. I didn't get fired or written up. I didn't get bitched at up and down.

I was cut a break.

Things could always be worse.

I miss my puppy.
and my house.

My little man

Pics of Maxim

This little man means the world to me

So, today is Tuesday.

Do you know what Tuesday means?

Katkin06 has the day off from work!! Yayyy!

However, I do have an Asian Cultures test tonight that I am worried about. I've never been really skilled in the area of studying and doing well on tests. I think I may have a small case of attention deficit disorder.

Besides the test, I have so many other things going on!

I'm working on getting my reality show together through the school and everything, so that will definately be a big job. There are so many projects I want to work on. So many ideas, so little time!

I'm hungry and I want a Calamari's tuna salad croissant. You should try it. :D

Speaking of which, yesterday Jolene and I got coffee and sat on State St. people watching and smoking. It was such a beautiful day, and I couldn't help but enjoy myself. Then, we split a tuna salad croissant (ahem, the best thing since sliced bread) and I headed off to work. I'm definately glad to have the day off.

I need to study! As always, love you.

-Katkin06-

Hello everyone,
So, starting this has brought so many ideas to my head as to what to write about. It's like I'm thinking about different things at various times throughout the day/night. And now that I've thought about so many things I can't pinpoint one. Ha. Okay let's see...
So last night I was looking through my iTunes shared libraries and I'm looking and looking and I see... (drum roll please)


my first roommate's library.
Seeing as how I don't like to talk badly about people, I won't. But she was a really bad roommate. The end. Anyway, I think it's supercool that those of us who live in close proximity can share our music on itunes together and I bought a new song last nightttt: Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes by Paul Simon.
I know. I'm a nerd, but he's so good!
Other new favorite artist: All Time Low
Listen to this: 6 Feet Under the Stars


Question of the day: If you have an itch, do you itch it? Or do you scratch it?

It's plain and simple.
My life, if the word crazy is undesirable to you, is humorous.
It's wild and spontaneous, and some of the stories I have will make you laugh.
I don't if it's just my luck or what, but I feel like I'm living in an episode of Seinfeld each and every day.
This year, I have been involved in three car accidents, all of them my fault.
The first and second accidents were minor, and occured exactly within two weeks of each other.
The third need not be spoken about.
Moral of the story: Don't go 70 miles per hour in the slush on a highway when your car has a sway-bar problem.
I can honestly say it's okay, though. Life goes on, and my car is fine. Someone up there is looking out for me.
Anyway, I like to post my own movie reviews and opinions and poems and exerpts/sections/parts (synonym much?) of the book I'm trying to write. Let me know what you think.