Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Sensitivity, A Confession.

I wish I could tell you that I’m a tough kind of girl, that I’m able to withstand anything that comes my way. I wish I could tell you that nothing phases me, that I’m not the stereotypical kind of girl who gets all weepy and emotional about things. I really wish I could honestly tell you all those things. But I’m not, and I’m slowly realizing it. The truth of the matter is I’m pretty sensitive when it comes to human suffering.

Over the weekend, my class and I went up to Salt Lake City to view three documentaries on Saturday and one on Monday. For the most part, they were rather interesting. But, on occasion, there would be some archival footage that shook me to my core. There were non-violent protestors being brutally beaten by the police or having mace forcefully rubbed in their eyes. There was footage of heroin babies screaming non-stop. There were civil rights protestors, again, being tackled and beaten by the police. There were child soldiers in Africa shooting guns and being shot at. And each time footage like this flashed upon the screen, I’d instinctively and involuntarily clutch my chest, grab my necklace, or, during two screenings, grab Rob’s arm who was sitting next to me and bury my head in his shoulder. I couldn’t take it. Each time I was surrounded by the sights and sounds of pain and human suffering, I was overwhelmed with heartache. It was a very powerful and emotional response, and something I could not control no matter how hard I try.
This is a side of me that I’ve always known existed but never to what degree. It’s strange to admit because, besides my pride in not being a stereotypical overly-emotional girl, I watch extremely violent movies all the time. I love action movies with guns, explosions, fighting, etc. and I’m able to stomach all of that, even revel in it. However, I will not watch war movies. Any movie that is based upon a real war and has scenes of combat, I cannot watch. It upsets me too much. I see the pain, the fear, the stress, it’s all just too much for me to take. It’s because what I’m watching, though it’s staged and not real, did happen to real people. The suffering that the actors are portraying happened to actual people. Men with families at home, mothers, wives, children, fathers, all waiting for them to come home safely. Each man had dreams of the future and had stories from their past. Yet here I am watching their fear and pain being acted out on the screen before me, even if it is just acting. In most action movies, I know it’s fake. I know it’s not real. But in war movies, that shit did happen to real people.
That’s why watching archival footage of actual human suffering upset me so much. I can’t handle watching people in pain, especially if the pain is pointless and unnecessary. I feel like a wuss to admit it but I’m extremely sensitive to suffering of any kind. Every time I see something like that, I feel like my heart is going to break. I don’t know any of these people and probably never will, but their senseless suffering breaks my heart. And part of me really wishes it wouldn’t. Part of me wishes I could be stoic and unemotional when seeing such horrific things. I wish I didn’t feel this way. It’s too painful.

Love you. 
Mean it. 

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

#27: What book changed your life?

I can think of three books off the top of my head that have changed my life. I'll save the book that changed my life in the funniest way for last. Stay tuned. 

The first book is Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. 

The first time I heard of this book was my junior year of high school. I had American Literature I with Ms. Elizabeth Gleason (one of the most influential teachers I have ever had). One day before class started, this guy in our class named Kyle asked her what her favorite book was. She said Anna Karenina. She brought out a copy and showed it to us. She told us it was written in series installments between 1873 & 1877 in Russia. She told us why she loved it so much, but I had stopped listening. The book was a thick sucker. Add in the fact it was written in Russia (a country I knew next to nothing about) and nearly a hundred years before I was born, I lost interest very quickly. I remember thinking to myself, I am never going to read this book. 

Flash-forward nearly four & a half years. I am 20 years old and living in St. Petersburg, Russia. I'm there  with a volunteer program to teach children English and I'll be there for nearly five months. I had finished all of the books I had brought with me (I didn't bring that many) and had no idea how I was going to pass the time during my 45-minute metro ride commute. In my head-teacher's apartment, I stumbled upon a copy of Anna Karenina. I thought back a lifetime to that English class with Ms. Gleason and how it was her favorite book. I decided to give it a whirl. 

There have been very few times in my life when a book has so thoroughly engrossed me. I could not put it down. I was immensely invested with the two stories and with the characters involved. To read this book reminded me why I love to read and why I love literature. It rekindled my love affair with classic literature and sparked my intense love of Russian literature. After I had finished reading it, I found a book store on Nevsky Prospect that sold books in English. I bought novels not only by Tolstoy, but also Dostoevsky (I've read nearly everything that man ever wrote), Pushkin, Gogol, Gorky, and others. I am still fascinated by Russian literature and with literature in general. I bought two copies of Anna Karenina--one in English and the other in Russian. In the English copy, I wrote the following on the inside:  

"This copy of Anna Karenina was purchased at "Дом книги", (House of Books) in St. Petersburg, Russia on March 15th 2008 by Kelly Cannon."

Below that, I wrote a quote that summed up my feelings toward the book:

"There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love."
-Christopher Morley


The second book that changed my life is actually a trilogy. It's The Millennium Series, which consists of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire, & The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, all by Stieg Larson













I read this books over the summer. Okay, in all honesty I didn't literally read them. I listened to them on my ipod. I enjoy listening to books on tape way more than music. I listen to them when I commute to school, to work, to wherever. (Yes, I am that big of a dork that not only do I read books for school and for fun at the same time, but I also listen to books while I drive. I regret nothing.) The books are insanely addictive and engrossing. I found myself truly invested and worried about the characters. Again, these were books I could not put down (or, more accurately, turn off).


How they changed my life was during the time I was listening to them, I had begun working at the UVU Review. I was in this odd place in my life where I wasn't positive what I wanted to do as a career. I was (and still am) an English major, but my desire to go to graduate school had recently diminished significantly. At the same time, I was really enjoying working on the paper and doing "journalism." In these books, one of the main characters, Mikael Blomkvist is a journalist and a publisher of his own independent magazine. His passion for writing, and writing the truth was inspiring. He never compromised his values and truly believed in exposing corruption and wrong-doing. I found myself constantly wanting to be him. These books helped me make the decision to become a writer and a journalist.

The last book that changed my life is actually a children's book. My mother bought it for me when I was quite young. Apparently, I had this tiny little problem of telling lies. My mom had tried everything to get me to stop but nothing worked. Finally, she went to the bookstore to get a copy of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. However, while she was there, a very helpful sales associate told her about this new book that just came out that has the same moral. It's by Hilaire Belloc and is called, Matilda, Who Told Lies & Was Burned to Death.



The American "Politically Correct" title is Matilda, Who Told Such Dreadful Lies but the above is the original titled. It's a poem that was included in Belloc's book of Cautionary Tales for Children. Essentially what happens is Matilda tells lies all the time. She lives with her old aunt who is shocked by her behavior. One time Matilda calls the fire brigade and says her house is on fire. The firemen come and douse her whole house with water, despite the fact nothing is on fire. As a punishment, Matilda has to stay home while her aunt goes out. But then the house actually does catch on fire and when Matilda tries to call the fire brigade, they don't believe her. She then runs to the window to solicit help, but in vain.

"For every time she shouted 'Fire!'
They only answered 'Little Liar!'"
The last line of the story/poem drives the point home:

"And therefore when her Aunt returned,
Matilda, and the House, were Burned."
Yep, you read that right. The girl BURNS TO DEATH!

Needless to say, that stopped my lying problem right quick. Even to this day, I have a strong aversion to lying, not telling the whole truth, or even bending the truth slightly. My mom's plan to stop me from telling fibs was uber effective. I still have the book and as if the poem wasn't morbid enough (which you can read the whole thing here) the drawings are in black, white and different shades of red, with the fire being brilliant shades of red and orange. If you ever stumble upon a copy, pick it up.

Love you.
Mean it.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

How to Name Some of My Favorite Books/Stories/Poems, a Handy Flow(ish) Chart

The other day, someone asked me my least favorite question:

"What is your favorite book?"

Honestly, how can I answer this? It'd be like choosing my favorite reason for existing. It just can't be done. Whenever I am asked this question, I usually list a bunch of "groups," such as Classic Russian Literature, American Realism, etc., and then throw in some specific names of writers (Chuck Palahniuk, Kurt Vonnegut, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, David Foster Wallace, etc.) for good measure. 

The trouble is I can't recall a time when I wasn't reading. Most parents have to drag their kids kicking and screaming to get them to read a single book. My parents had the problem of getting me to stop reading. In elementary school, I would often be reading four or five books at once. My mom once asked me why I read so many at a time. I told her that when I get bored with reading one, I can switch to another until that one becomes boring and I switch again. My mom then asked me why I didn't just do something else when my book became boring. She told me I gave her a look like the thought had never crossed my mind. 

Today, my friends are also annoyed by how much I read. Once I was over at a friend's house with my small close group of friends. We sat down at the kitchen table and the newspaper was lying on top of the table. I casually pulled it closer to me when it was suddenly snatched away from me by Paige. "Kelly, no. Every time you read something, you get lost in your own world and are lousy at conversation," she explained and took the rest of the newspaper into the other room. 

After being asked that stupid question of my favorite book for the umpteenth time, I figured out  a system, a process of elimination where I could name my favorite book/story by trying to narrow down the pool of options. It goes as such:


  1. Is the Author American or European?
    1. American 
      1. Is the Author Living or Dead?
        1. Living
          1. Is the Author a Man or a Woman?
            1. Woman
              1. Sloane Crosley
                1. I Was Told There’d Be Cake
              2. Alice Walker
                1. The Color Purple
              3. Harper Lee
                1. To Kill a Mockingbird
          2. Man
            1. Chuck Palahniuk
              1. Fight Club
              2. Survivor
              3. Stranger than Fiction
              4. Diary
              5. Lullabye
              6. Choke
              7. Tell-All
              8. Rant
            2. Dean Koontz
              1. Odd Thomas
              2. Forever Odd
              3. Brother Odd
              4. Odd Hours
            3. David Sedaris
              1. Naked
              2. Dress Your Family in Jeans &  Corduroys 
            4. Alan Moore
              1. V for Vendetta
              2. Watchmen
              3. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
            5. Cormac McCarthy
              1. No Country for Old Men
            6. Stephen King
              1. The Green Mile
              2. The Shinning
            7. Frank Miller
              1. All Star Batman and Robin the Boy Wonder
              2. Batman: The Dark Knight Returns
              3. Batman: The Dark Knight Strikes Again
              4. Sin City
              5. 300
            8. Max Brooks
              1. World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War
        2. Dead
          1. Did the Author Die by “Natural Causes” or Committed Suicide?
            1. Suicide
              1. Ernest Hemingway
                1. A Farewell to Arms
                2. The Old Man & the Sea
                3. “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” 
              2. Sylvia Plath
                1. The Collected Poems
              3. David Foster Wallace
                1. Consider the Lobster
                2. Up, Simba
                3. “Ticket to the Fair” (essay)
            2. “Natural Causes”
              1. Kurt Vonnegut
                1. Slaughterhouse Five
                2. God Bless You Mister Rosewater
                3. Breakfast of Champions
                4. Bluebeard
              2. Nathaniel Hawthorne
                1. The Scarlet Letter
                2. Collected Short Stories
              3. John Steinbeck
                1. East of Eden
                2. The Grapes of Wrath
                3. Of Mice & Men
                4. The Pearl
                5. The Winter of Our Discontent
              4. F. Scott Fitzgerald
                1. The Great Gatsby
                2. This Side of Paradise 
                3. The Beautiful & the Damned
                4. “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” 
                5. “Babylon Revisited” 
              5. Allen Ginsberg
                1. Howl and Other Poems
              6. Charles Bukowski
                1. Run with the Hunted (poetry)
                2. Mockingbird Wish Me Luck (poetry)
                3. Love Is a Dog from Hell (poetry)
                4. What Matters Most Is How Well You Walk Through the Fire (poetry)
                5. The Night Torn Mad with Footsteps (poetry)
                6. Slouching Toward Nirvana (poetry)
                7. Come On In! (poetry)
              7. Pearl S. Buck
                1. The Good Earth
              8. Truman Capote
                1. In Cold Blood
                2. Breakfast at Tiffany’s 
              9. J.D. Salinger
                1. The Catcher in the Rye 
              10. Mark Twain
                1. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
                2. Life on the Mississippi
                3. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
                4. The Tragedy of Pudd’nhead Wilson
                5. “What Is Man?” (Essay)
              11. Edgar Allen Poe
                1. “Lenore” (poem)
                2. “The Raven” (poem)
                3. “To Helen” (poem)
                4. “A Dream Within a Dream” (poem)
                5. “Annabel Lee” (poem)
                6. “The Bells” (poem)
                7. “The Fall of the House of Usher” 
                8. “Never Bet the Devil Your Head” 
                9. “The Oval Portrait” 
                10. “The Masque of Red Death” 
                11. “The Pit and the Pendulum” 
                12. “The Tell-Tale Heart” 
                13. “The Gold-Bug” 
                14. “The Black Cat” 
                15. “The Tale of the Ragged Mountains” 
                16. “The Premature Burial” 
                17. “The Cask of Amontillado” 
              12. Raymond Carver
                1. What We Talk About When We Talk About Love (collection of short stories)
              13. Willa Cather 
                1. O Pioneers!
                2. My Antonia
              14. Stephen Crane
                1. The Red Badge of Courage
                2. Maggie: A Girl of the Streets
              15. Betty Friedan 
                1. The Feminine Mystique
    2. European
      1. Is the author from the United Kingdom or continental Europe?
        1. United Kingdom
          1. Is the author alive or dead?
            1. Alive
              1. Terry Pratchett
                1. Good Omens (co-author)
              2. Neil Gaiman
                1. Good Omens (co-author)
                2. Coraline
            2. Dead
              1. Oscar Wilde
                1. The Picture of Dorian Gray
                2. An Ideal Husband (play)
                3. Lady Windermere’s Fan (play)
                4. The Importance of Being Earnest
              2. James Joyce
                1. Finnegan’s Wake
                2. “The Dead” 
              3. Rudyard Kipling
                1. Tales of Horror & Fantasy (collection of short stories)
              4. Bram Stoker
                1. Dracula
              5. Jane Austin
                1. Pride & Prejudice
              6. Aldous Huxley
                1. Brave New World
              7. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
                1. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
              8. Thomas Hardy
                1. Jude the Obscure
              9. Douglas Adams
                1. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
              10. Beatrix Potter
                1. “The Tale of Peter Rabbit” 
                2. “The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin”
                3. “The Tale of Benjamin Bunny”
                4. “The Tale of Two Bad Mice”
                5. “The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle”
                6. “The Story of Miss Moppet”
                7. “The Tale of Tom Kitten”
                8. “The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck”
                9. “The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies”
                10. “The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse”
                11. “The Tale of Johnny Town-Mouse”
        2. Continental Europe
          1. Is the Author Russian or Other?
            1. Russian
              1. Dostoevsky
                1. Crime & Punishment
                2. The Brothers Karamazov
                3. The Idiot
                4. The Devils
                5. Notes from Underground
                6. House of the Dead
                7. Poor Folk
              2. Leo Tolstoy
                1. Anna Karenina
                2. War & Peace
                3. The Death of Ivan Ilyich
              3. Vladimir Nabokov
                1. Lolita
              4. Maxim Gorky
                1. The Lower Depths (Play)
              5. Alexander Pushkin
                1. “The Bronze Horseman” (Poem)
            2. Other
              1. Hilarie Belloc (French)
                1. Matilda, Who Told Lies & Was Burned to Death
              2. Franz Kafka (German)
                1. The Metamorphosis 
                2. The Trial
              3. The Grimm Brothers
                1. “The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was” 
                2. “The Twelve Brothers”
                3. “Rapunzel” 
                4. “Hansel & Gretal” 
                5. “The Fisherman & His Wife” 
                6. “The Valiant Little Tailor” 
                7. “Cinderella” 
                8. “The Riddle”
                9. “The Seven Ravens” 
                10. “Little Red Riding Hood” 
                11. “The Singing Bone” 
                12. “The Girl Without Hands” 
                13. “The Elves & the Shoemaker” 
                14. “Sleeping Beauty” 
                15. “Little Snow White” 
                16. “Rumplestiltskin” 
                17. “The Golden Goose” 
                18. “The Gold-Children” 
                19. “The Peasant’s Wise Daughter” 
                20. “Snow White & Rose Red” 
                21. “The Glass Coffin” 
                22. “The Peasant & the Devil” 
              4. Hans Christian Anderson (Danish)
                1. “The Little Match Girl” 
                2. “The Little Sea Girl” 
                3. “The Emperor’s New Clothes” 
                4. “The Ice Maiden” 
                5. “The Princess & the Pea” 
                6. “The Red Shoes” 
                7. “The Snow Queen” 
                8. “The Steadfast Tin Soldier” 
                9. “Thumbelina” 
*Titles italicized are books/novels/collections unless otherwise stated. 
**Titles in parenthesis are short stories unless otherwise stated. 


This was a complicated little piece of organization to create. I know I've left a large number of authors/writers but it was all just too much. I don't even know if I could honestly get through all of it when that stupid question is brought up in conversation. Maybe I should laminate it on some handy index-sized cards and pull them out whenever it is necessary.

And yes, I am that big of a literary dork that I made a chart that uses the process of elimination to identify some of my favorite books/stories/poems. I regret nothing.

Love you.
Mean it. 

New Found Attention: Reality or Wishful Thinking?

New year. New semester. New found attention?

Possibly.

I don't know what it is about this 2011, but I've been realizing a lot of guys are finally paying attention to me, or at least noticing me more. I'm catching a lot of guys "staring" at me--not in that creepy, heavy-breathing kind or way but in that way that suggests they are interested in or intrigued by my me.  Now, the only reason this is so incredibly odd to me is last year (the goddamn cursed year of 2010) I could have rented a giant neon sign that magically floated above my head that flashed the words "NOTICE ME!" and I wouldn't have even turned a head. Now I catch guys all the time looking at me for the first time. And all I've been thinking about is WTF?

But it gets even better (and odder) than that. Not only are guys just noticing me more, but guys are always trying to engage me in some form of a flirtatious conversation. It's happening all over the place, in classes, in interviews, even on just random moments of downtime in the halls of UVU. And even more odd is it isn't limited to single guys. I've had two MARRIED guys engage me in a very flirtatious (and very uncomfortable for me) conversations. Just last night while riding TRAX home from Salt Lake, I was sitting across from this guy who looked about my age. It was very obvious he had a ring on but after looking up from my book and catching him looking at me more than a few times, he struck up a conversation with me. It was a pleasant enough conversation minus the fact he was very conspicuously flirting with me. Now, I am down for pretty much any experience but I draw the line at encouraging any form of infidelity and flirtatious conversations fit into that category.

Now, I don't want to get too ahead of myself. There is a very strong possibility that all of this is in my head, that it's all just wishful thinking. Maybe this new found attention, while real, is not a positive thing. Maybe all of this attention stems from the fact I have this tendency to be too awkward to function. I put my foot in my mouth on a daily basis and tend to go on verbal tangents about subjects that either A) No one knows anything about, or B) no one cares about (or more often than not, a combination of the two).

But for the sake of argument, let's pretend that this new found attention is both real and a good thing. The question that then pops into my head is why now? What has happened that has caused this sudden change? Why are guys noticing me now when I was next to invisible all last year? I haven't changed in anyway way (as far as I can tell). And for the most part, a good chunk of these guys who suddenly seem so intrigued by me are not new to my life. They've known me (or known of me) for a while now. And why it's perfectly normal for one guy to all of a sudden become interested in me, for five or six guys to simultaneously realize they suddenly give a damn about me is just too preposterous to fathom.

Something must have changed. The real sucky part is if the change was on my part, I'm screwed. I have no freaking idea what I've been doing differently. That is a very useful little piece of information. Because what if one day no one notices my existence again? Then, since I don't know what I did in the first place to get guys' attention, I can't bloody well do it again.

My life is tragic.

Love you.
Mean it.

Friday, January 21, 2011

You Instantly Knew

Have you ever met someone and you instantly knew you were going to be friends?

That's how it was with Scott.

The first time we met was at a Superbowl party at the Sigma Chi house. We had been briefly introduced at the club fair on campus a few days before but I was too busy recruiting girls into my sorority that I only was able to catch his name and the fact he was my friend Josh's little brother.

I said hi as I sat next to him on the couch. He said hi and then was silent. We both watched the game as I waited for him to say something to start a conversation. I waited in vain. He was silent and had a puzzled expression on his face. After realizing he wasn't going to start talking, I asked him why he looked so pensive. He turned to me and replied, "What?" I asked him again why he looked so pensive. He briefly paused before replying, "I don't know what that means," in the most deadpan unabashed kind of way.

I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. His complete unembarrassed honesty caught me off guard and delighted me. As first impressions go, he couldn't have done better. Over the next few months, Scott & I developed a friendship that is still to this day one of the best I've ever had.

Unfortunately, one of the most efficient, effective, and destructive ways to end a friendship is to turn it into a doomed relationship. Our friendship-turned-relationship-ended in an explosive tempest of pain, betrayal, rage, and bitterness--whose effects I am still feeling.

But that's a story for another time.

Love you.
Mean it.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Kelly the Frantic Forgetter, a Humorous Internal Monologue

Oh, look. There’s...shit. What is her name? I know her. She was in my graduating class. It’s...um...Bridget? Bethany? Lindsey? Shit! What is her name??? She took A Capella with me. She was even in my section, altos, though I don’t remember if she was a first or second alto... Think, Kelly. Think! Tiffany? No, I’d remember if her name was Tiffany. What a wretched name. Who in their right mind would name their daughter Tiffany? Do they think their daughter is going to stay 21 forever? No one is going to take an old woman seriously when she’s living in an old folks’ home & her name is Tiffany. Wait, don’t I know a Tiffany? She married what’s his name...that guy who once shot me with a BB gun when we were hanging out at his house... Never mind. Let’s try to remember one forgotten name at a time.

Anne? Adrian? Kimberly? Shit. I swear I know her name. She was dating that Justin guy the same time I was dating Jason. We’d hang out all the time since Justin & Jason were both on the drumline. Come to think of it, she was dating Justin the entire time I dated Alex then Jason then Kendall. Even after I got out of that abortion of a relationship (only to enter a bad-idea rebound) she was still dating Justin. What was Justin’s last name? Pitts? NO, Justin Pitts is currently my friend whom I just met back in March. I only met Justin Pitts on account of him being roommates with Jon. What was high school Justin’s last name? Justin...Justin...Justin...Timberlake. Oh, great. Now I got Sexyback stuck in my head. What the hell is her name???

Come on! She hung out with Nicole and Alexis and that Harmoney girl with the perpetually bad highlight job and fake nails. She lived up on the other side of Provo, kind of where Danielle’s parents live. She went to that one party Nicole had where it was all girls so we all wore our “immodest” tank tops (oh, to be young and naïve). We all stole that caution tape from that construction site (oh to be young and stupid). There’s a picture of me somewhere in my tank top with the caution tape wrapped around my boobs. I had a rather sultry look on my face (even for how young I was). Danielle was in the picture too! She was smiling that goofy Danielle smile that everyone (guys or girls) thought was so cute. My tank top was red & Danielle’s was yellow. I had a conversation later that night on the phone with Alex. All the girls were giggling so I had to go hide in a closet to hear him. And then two girls were wrestling in the hallway and someone’s knee smashed a hole in the wall. Why is it I can remember all this stupid stuff but I can’t remember her goddamn name???

Shit, she’s looking right at me. Quick! Pull out your phone. La-de-da. La-de-da...checking my text messages...smile as if I’m reading something funny (though I’m just reading mom’s misspelled text about how I need to let out the dog when I get home. She really needs to reread what she texted before she sends them). Is she gone? Looking from my peripheral... Okay, she’s gone. Goddamnit, what is her name? 

...

Brittany! It’s Brittany!

Love you.
Mean it.