The days rush by in a whirlwind of poorly constructed emails from students, presentation preparation, endless literature about loggerhead shrikes, grassland birds, and scissor-tailed flycatchers, and a battle with statistics. Some days I love statistics and other days it makes me incredibly frustrated.
Last weekend, I ventured to Austin to attend a Gopher football party with people whom I have never met. I contemplated the decision to go or not to go all week. At first when I arrived in the Lone Star State's capital, I strayed around a corner of downtown Austin. Driven to tears in the enveloping late summer heat, I called my mother frantically because I could not find the address that I sought. I felt like the world's biggest idiot. Wandering around Austin in search of a place that I had never been, full of people whom I never met. After a kind gentleman directed me to the correct cross streets, I spotted a man wearing a Gopher tee shirt. Upon arriving at the party, my anxiety drifted away. The host and guests are friendly, intelligent and diverse. I met with them again yesterday to watch the Gophers play USC.
The rain fell from the sky on a dreary, cooler late summer day in Texas. A shot of the Minneapolis skyline over the stadium came on the television. A perfect 60 degree day with mostly sunny skies. It almost brought me to tears. I long for the Minnesota autumn.
"My whole family is there right now," I thought, "how I long for the crisp air of a Minnesota September."
Driving down the interstate towards San Marcos at sunset while listening to Jimi Hendrix, I still cannot believe that I live in Texas. I drove cross country with my boyfriend, cats, and rats to commence a new adventure.
It all still feels like a dream. Life is crazy. Life is good.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Moon River
"The time is right to make new friends," the fortune reads. I do not believe in fortunes or anything oracle. But, I'll take it as a reminder that relationships, friendships included, take time to build. School has distracted me from the fact that I still do not have many friends. My mind races, and I think that something is wrong with me.
"It's not you, it's me."
But is it you? Or is it me?
Perhaps it's all in my inner fears. Perhaps it is not real at all. But could it be?
Today is an old friend's birthday. On her eighteenth birthday six years ago, she invited me to her mother's house. We had homemade purple strawberry ice cream and cheesecake. It was truly a privilege to be a part of such a celebration.
I was seventeen then, just a girl full of day dreams about the next stage of life. I had just began my final year in the secondary school system. I thought I was going to study neuroscience at the University of Minnesota and go on to medical school afterward. I had no idea that I could be such thing as a field ecologist. My world was about to explode with opportunity. If I could have peered into a crystal ball about my future, I would not have believed my own eyes.
Who did I think I would become? I spent time wondering where I would be in my twenties. A world that seemed so far away and now here I am, swept up in the challenges of new adulthood. Of course, I still spend time wondering where I will be in the future. But, I like reminiscing about that seventeen year old girl.
Tomorrow is the first home game of the Minnesota Gopher football team. Every day, piece by piece, this new universe falls into place. Piece by piece, I realize that it is truly a new era in my existence. It will be the first home game in nearly fifteen years that I will miss. As a girl, I joined my father at the Gopher home games on Saturdays in the crisp MN fall. I wore my maroon and gold while the proud father shared his dreams of his children attending the University of Minnesota, his own Alma mater. Gopher Saturdays were the bond between father and daughter. That bond carried through the daughter's college years.
What will those Saturdays bring now?
"It's not you, it's me."
But is it you? Or is it me?
Perhaps it's all in my inner fears. Perhaps it is not real at all. But could it be?
Today is an old friend's birthday. On her eighteenth birthday six years ago, she invited me to her mother's house. We had homemade purple strawberry ice cream and cheesecake. It was truly a privilege to be a part of such a celebration.
I was seventeen then, just a girl full of day dreams about the next stage of life. I had just began my final year in the secondary school system. I thought I was going to study neuroscience at the University of Minnesota and go on to medical school afterward. I had no idea that I could be such thing as a field ecologist. My world was about to explode with opportunity. If I could have peered into a crystal ball about my future, I would not have believed my own eyes.
Who did I think I would become? I spent time wondering where I would be in my twenties. A world that seemed so far away and now here I am, swept up in the challenges of new adulthood. Of course, I still spend time wondering where I will be in the future. But, I like reminiscing about that seventeen year old girl.
Tomorrow is the first home game of the Minnesota Gopher football team. Every day, piece by piece, this new universe falls into place. Piece by piece, I realize that it is truly a new era in my existence. It will be the first home game in nearly fifteen years that I will miss. As a girl, I joined my father at the Gopher home games on Saturdays in the crisp MN fall. I wore my maroon and gold while the proud father shared his dreams of his children attending the University of Minnesota, his own Alma mater. Gopher Saturdays were the bond between father and daughter. That bond carried through the daughter's college years.
What will those Saturdays bring now?
Monday, September 6, 2010
My own parallel universe
The first two weeks of the semester have come and gone. I am starting to gather information and ideas for my thesis. Whenever the thought of loggerhead shrikes enters my head, excitement fills me and bubbles out like an test tube experiment in a high school chemistry class.
In the kitchen, a friend told me, "I have never met someone who is excited as you about things.
I couldn't believe that there I was, standing opposite of her in the kitchen on a late summer's eve, with tears slowly filling my eyes. I wanted to avoid moments of that nature. The opinions of my adviser and my two office mates (and the other grad students and faculty) matter to me. I do not wish to convey the impression that I do not want to be here in Texas.
I suppose I knew it would be a challenge, but the rewards are great.
The following is difficult to write, it is a glimpse into some of my most inner thoughts. The workings of Erin exposed for the blog world to see. Arrogance is feared. Lately, my appearance has garnished much attention. This is where the aforementioned fear comes into play. I do not intend to brag. Just to report my life happenings. I felt slightly ashamed for wearing shorts to teach my first labs.
"If you were my TA, I would have a hard time paying attention." Giggles and smiles followed.
I do not wish to abuse this new found power of an hour glass and the letter D. Perhaps the fear of seeming arrogant prevents my acceptance of myself as a sexy woman. Or something like that.
I miss Minnesota. For unknown reasons that night, I was longing for Minnesota. I felt slightly glum and had a difficult time controlling my emotions. This experience has been full of highs and a few, very slight, lows. I often have simultaneous feelings of excitement and anxiety. Do not misread this, I very much enjoy residing in San Marcos, TX. The school is wonderful, the people in the department are interesting and engaging, and there is this great synergy between the graduate students. I cannot believe I actually just typed "synergy".
But, I expect that it is normal to miss the life where I was comfortable. Texas feels like a different world. A sort of parallel universe, one that is similar to my world in many respects, but in other ways, it is dramatically different. The money, federal laws, and the language are common ground. The rest is like I fell into an alternative universe. A place where things are almost the same, but they are not quite right, something is off. For example, the roads still have yellow and white lines and we still drive on the right side (obviously) but something is different.
This universe has breakfast tacos and H-E-B. Tropical storms are a concern here. The rain is falling from the sky with no end in sight. At least for the next 24 hours. Thank you tropical storm Hermine. The water pools on the roads due to the limestone just below the surface of the Earth here. I learned an important lesson recently in this parallel universe, do not drive in heavy rains. You may drown.
However, it is an amazingly exotic and dreamy world. As mentioned above, people think that I am exotic and exciting! The idea is ludicrous and amusing!
I will admit that I absolutely love it.
In the kitchen, a friend told me, "I have never met someone who is excited as you about things.
I couldn't believe that there I was, standing opposite of her in the kitchen on a late summer's eve, with tears slowly filling my eyes. I wanted to avoid moments of that nature. The opinions of my adviser and my two office mates (and the other grad students and faculty) matter to me. I do not wish to convey the impression that I do not want to be here in Texas.
I suppose I knew it would be a challenge, but the rewards are great.
The following is difficult to write, it is a glimpse into some of my most inner thoughts. The workings of Erin exposed for the blog world to see. Arrogance is feared. Lately, my appearance has garnished much attention. This is where the aforementioned fear comes into play. I do not intend to brag. Just to report my life happenings. I felt slightly ashamed for wearing shorts to teach my first labs.
"If you were my TA, I would have a hard time paying attention." Giggles and smiles followed.
I do not wish to abuse this new found power of an hour glass and the letter D. Perhaps the fear of seeming arrogant prevents my acceptance of myself as a sexy woman. Or something like that.
I miss Minnesota. For unknown reasons that night, I was longing for Minnesota. I felt slightly glum and had a difficult time controlling my emotions. This experience has been full of highs and a few, very slight, lows. I often have simultaneous feelings of excitement and anxiety. Do not misread this, I very much enjoy residing in San Marcos, TX. The school is wonderful, the people in the department are interesting and engaging, and there is this great synergy between the graduate students. I cannot believe I actually just typed "synergy".
But, I expect that it is normal to miss the life where I was comfortable. Texas feels like a different world. A sort of parallel universe, one that is similar to my world in many respects, but in other ways, it is dramatically different. The money, federal laws, and the language are common ground. The rest is like I fell into an alternative universe. A place where things are almost the same, but they are not quite right, something is off. For example, the roads still have yellow and white lines and we still drive on the right side (obviously) but something is different.
This universe has breakfast tacos and H-E-B. Tropical storms are a concern here. The rain is falling from the sky with no end in sight. At least for the next 24 hours. Thank you tropical storm Hermine. The water pools on the roads due to the limestone just below the surface of the Earth here. I learned an important lesson recently in this parallel universe, do not drive in heavy rains. You may drown.
However, it is an amazingly exotic and dreamy world. As mentioned above, people think that I am exotic and exciting! The idea is ludicrous and amusing!
I will admit that I absolutely love it.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Loggerhead Shrikes on the Mind
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_zfyAx_z_8
For my Master's thesis, I am going to study an avian species named the loggerhead shrike. It known as the "butcher bird" (see video). I am extremely excited to start working out the details and write my proposal in time for my first field season next spring. I may also be looking at the behavior/nesting of scissor-tailed flycatchers (who breed in a similar habitat as the loggerhead shrike). I have spent hours and hours this week searching through the available scientific literature on shrikes, field methods of estimating bird populations, and on kingbirds (the group to which the scissor-tailed flycatcher belongs). I have read about ten papers and I have a long list of more to read. I cannot wait to get started on the proposal writing! I would like to look at nesting behaviors/fledgling success! Exciting!!!
My first day of teaching is today. At 2 PM, I will officially be an IA. Yikes. I am excited and still nervous. Updates about the experience to follow.
For my Master's thesis, I am going to study an avian species named the loggerhead shrike. It known as the "butcher bird" (see video). I am extremely excited to start working out the details and write my proposal in time for my first field season next spring. I may also be looking at the behavior/nesting of scissor-tailed flycatchers (who breed in a similar habitat as the loggerhead shrike). I have spent hours and hours this week searching through the available scientific literature on shrikes, field methods of estimating bird populations, and on kingbirds (the group to which the scissor-tailed flycatcher belongs). I have read about ten papers and I have a long list of more to read. I cannot wait to get started on the proposal writing! I would like to look at nesting behaviors/fledgling success! Exciting!!!
My first day of teaching is today. At 2 PM, I will officially be an IA. Yikes. I am excited and still nervous. Updates about the experience to follow.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The New Normal
Last Wednesday, the semester officially began. Before I started, I was not entirely sure what to expect. The life of a graduate student is very different from the life of an undergraduate. I have an office (!) with two wonderful office mates. My desk is spacious and surrounded with photos and quirky little souvenirs from the places I have visited. We have a couch. And a fridge, coffee maker, and a toaster oven. We also have a lone hermit crab and two leopard geckos named Eli-zard-beth and Falkor.
I am taking two courses, two seminars, and I am teaching two lab sections for intro organismal biology for freshman. My first day of teaching is this Friday. I am extremely excited but nervous. The thought of twenty pairs of eyes staring at me while I stand at the front of the room seems slightly intimidating. But, I watched an experienced IA teach a lab today so I feel a little more comfortable.
The old normal was up at 5 AM and off to work at the kitchen at local nursing home in Cambridge, MN. It was coming home at 1:30 or 2:30 PM and exercising. Dinner was ready around 6 or 7. Blake only worked 40-45 hours a week and was home for dinner every night. The old normal was driving an hour to the Twin Cities, but I drove there once or twice a week. My mom, dad, and brothers were only an hour's drive away. It was filled with satellite television, a very generous aunt and uncle, miniature dachshunds and four cats. There was a compost pile and a variety of avian species that visited the backyard. It was full of waiting. The old normal was a limbo.
The new normal is awake around 7:15 AM, then breakfast with organic coffee, served black. Music plays while I get dressed and brush my teeth. It is hot all of the time. When I left my apartment this morning at 7:35 AM, the temperature was already 82 F. Sweat was pouring off me as a locked up my bike outside the Supple Science Building. The new normal is finding me in my office. It is only seeing my parents and brothers through a video chat online (wonderful, wonderful technology!). It is Blake leaving for work at 7:25 AM and arriving home around 7:30 PM five, sometimes six, days a week. The new normal is a busy schedule. It is grocery shopping at the H-E-B (Here Everything's Better), purchasing gas from the Yellow Store/Shell Stations or Valero. It is filled with mockingbirds, live oaks, Carolina chickadees, and rivers. The new normal is eating breakfast tacos with hot sauce. The new normal feels right.
This whole experience still feels like a dream. I often think, "I live in Texas??!!?!?! I am a graduate student now??!? LIFE IS CRAZY!!!"
Last year was wretched and full of uncertainty. I am so glad I made it here. I absolutely love it. I feel extremely lucky.
I am going to study loggerhead shrikes for my thesis.
Life is good.
I am taking two courses, two seminars, and I am teaching two lab sections for intro organismal biology for freshman. My first day of teaching is this Friday. I am extremely excited but nervous. The thought of twenty pairs of eyes staring at me while I stand at the front of the room seems slightly intimidating. But, I watched an experienced IA teach a lab today so I feel a little more comfortable.
The old normal was up at 5 AM and off to work at the kitchen at local nursing home in Cambridge, MN. It was coming home at 1:30 or 2:30 PM and exercising. Dinner was ready around 6 or 7. Blake only worked 40-45 hours a week and was home for dinner every night. The old normal was driving an hour to the Twin Cities, but I drove there once or twice a week. My mom, dad, and brothers were only an hour's drive away. It was filled with satellite television, a very generous aunt and uncle, miniature dachshunds and four cats. There was a compost pile and a variety of avian species that visited the backyard. It was full of waiting. The old normal was a limbo.
The new normal is awake around 7:15 AM, then breakfast with organic coffee, served black. Music plays while I get dressed and brush my teeth. It is hot all of the time. When I left my apartment this morning at 7:35 AM, the temperature was already 82 F. Sweat was pouring off me as a locked up my bike outside the Supple Science Building. The new normal is finding me in my office. It is only seeing my parents and brothers through a video chat online (wonderful, wonderful technology!). It is Blake leaving for work at 7:25 AM and arriving home around 7:30 PM five, sometimes six, days a week. The new normal is a busy schedule. It is grocery shopping at the H-E-B (Here Everything's Better), purchasing gas from the Yellow Store/Shell Stations or Valero. It is filled with mockingbirds, live oaks, Carolina chickadees, and rivers. The new normal is eating breakfast tacos with hot sauce. The new normal feels right.
This whole experience still feels like a dream. I often think, "I live in Texas??!!?!?! I am a graduate student now??!? LIFE IS CRAZY!!!"
Last year was wretched and full of uncertainty. I am so glad I made it here. I absolutely love it. I feel extremely lucky.
I am going to study loggerhead shrikes for my thesis.
Life is good.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
All these things that I've done
"The Lorax said nothing. Just gave me a glance...just gave me very sad, sad backward glance as he lifted himself by the seat of his pants. And I'll never forget the grim look on his face when he heisted himself and took leave of his place, through a hole in the smog, without leaving a trace."
I wish that I could, or that someone or something could, lift me away by the seat of my pants. Up, up, up through a hole in the clouds and back to a more comfortable place. But there are no clouds. Just the endless blue of the ozone and the heat. The thick enveloping heat. The asphalt and concrete absorbs it and spits it back it. I do not like the feeling of my feet burning through my shoes as I walk step by step across the city.
I thought I was happy but I suppose that I had deceived myself. I thought I finally knew what it was like to say with confidence and assurance that I was indeed happy. Maybe I was. But I lately I found myself teetering on the edge and then suddenly at the drop of a hat, I went plummeting down, down, down. That little pink pill is ineffective now, I guess.
I thought I was strong enough. I was deceived. I feared this place, hidden deep in my cerebral cortex. How could I have been so foolish to think that I could make it? That I was strong enough to move to a place so different and so far from everything I knew. I wasn't strong enough.
I wish I was different. I wish I was prettier, slimmer, wittier, funnier, charming, never socially awkward. I wish I was cool and normal. I wish I was not exceptionally loquacious. I wish I was less intelligent; then perhaps I would not have the capacity to ponder questions such as the origin of the Universe. I wish I was less sensitive, less emotional, and less timid. I wish I had the power to become invisible. I could just disappear at the blink of an eye and hide in plain sight.
I wish I was not me.
I left the office in tears. They poured down my freckled cheeks. Luckily there was no one around to notice.
I don't know anymore what it's for
I'm not even sure
If there is anyone who is in the sun
Will you help me to understand
'Cause I been caught in between all I wish for and all I need
Maybe you're not even sure what it's for
Any more than me
I wish that I could, or that someone or something could, lift me away by the seat of my pants. Up, up, up through a hole in the clouds and back to a more comfortable place. But there are no clouds. Just the endless blue of the ozone and the heat. The thick enveloping heat. The asphalt and concrete absorbs it and spits it back it. I do not like the feeling of my feet burning through my shoes as I walk step by step across the city.
I thought I was happy but I suppose that I had deceived myself. I thought I finally knew what it was like to say with confidence and assurance that I was indeed happy. Maybe I was. But I lately I found myself teetering on the edge and then suddenly at the drop of a hat, I went plummeting down, down, down. That little pink pill is ineffective now, I guess.
I thought I was strong enough. I was deceived. I feared this place, hidden deep in my cerebral cortex. How could I have been so foolish to think that I could make it? That I was strong enough to move to a place so different and so far from everything I knew. I wasn't strong enough.
I wish I was different. I wish I was prettier, slimmer, wittier, funnier, charming, never socially awkward. I wish I was cool and normal. I wish I was not exceptionally loquacious. I wish I was less intelligent; then perhaps I would not have the capacity to ponder questions such as the origin of the Universe. I wish I was less sensitive, less emotional, and less timid. I wish I had the power to become invisible. I could just disappear at the blink of an eye and hide in plain sight.
I wish I was not me.
I left the office in tears. They poured down my freckled cheeks. Luckily there was no one around to notice.
I don't know anymore what it's for
I'm not even sure
If there is anyone who is in the sun
Will you help me to understand
'Cause I been caught in between all I wish for and all I need
Maybe you're not even sure what it's for
Any more than me
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Dreams, death, and the short version of me as an atheist
I am lucky (or cursed) enough to remember, in vivid detail, the dreams I have immediately before I wake. Sometimes I wake up with my heart racing in a sweat around 3 AM in the middle of a horrific dream or I awaken around 8 AM (the time I usually rise from bed) from a colorful and bizarre dream. Until now, I rarely have reoccurring dreams. I once had dream a few times about a badger biting my ankles and I occasionally dream about my brother's pending nuptials. Ever since I moved to TX, I have the same dream nearly every time I sleep. I dream that I am back in MN for some untold reason and I have to drive all the way back to TX. I see people that I left behind and explain to them that I moved to TX and it is understood that I have to journey back. I am filled with anxiety and dread about driving 1200 miles.
"The drive is over," I reassure myself upon waking, "you are here in TX now, after months of anticipation. You are all moved in to your apartment. You have been here for over a month now. It's all over."
I wish I knew why this dream keeps plaguing me. I also dream about extraterrestrials, space travel, running from an unseen danger, worm holes, Maxine, my dead grandfather, poisonous beverages, and mysterious forces plotting destruction of the planet. Maybe I should lay off reading Carl Sagan?
Speaking of Maxine and my grandfather, mortality is sobering. I miss the ones I have lost to the inevitable more than I can express in words. I long for my deceased pet rats, Moo and Maxine. I can see images of them scampering across the floor in my mind's eye. I remember chirping "Maxine, Maxine, come here baby!" and looking down to see my faithful friend standing at my feet. I wish my grandparents were still alive. I wish they could see me now, all grown up. What would they think? Would they be pleased with how I turned out? Would they be proud? Would my grandpa and I spend hours arguing about politics? He was a fan of Rush Limbaugh. Would my grandmother be appalled that I am an atheist? I wish I remembered more about them, especially my grandmother. She died when I was only four and my grandfather when I was thirteen.
I understand why the idea of Heaven and an all-loving being watching over us, guiding us is appealing. Like everyone else, I long to see the dead again. I wish they were here with me. How much I would like to hug my grandmother, to show her the woman I have become!
Death is unpleasant. The idea that all living things will at some point cease to exist and be lost to us really, really sucks. I get it, I do. I can sympathize with the pain. I know what is like to wish, to hope with everything that you have that someday, somewhere, we will be reunited with those who have expired.
BUT, the Universe does not act according to our desires. Just because something is unpleasant, such as the idea of entering a dreamless, endless sleep upon dying, does not mean that is untrue.
Mortality is sobering and humbling, but I am personally not afraid of death. I have come to terms with my own brevity and I am no longer scared. When I was a Christian, I was always afraid.
"Am I sinning? Am I going to Hell? How do I know if I am good enough for Heaven?" I often thought. No one, it seemed, could comfort me. No one could give me an answer. No could tell me if I was living correctly. I spent hours contemplating the idea of eternity as a teenager. I thought about the alternatives. Spending an eternity in a hot, torturous place or living FOREVER in some paradise. To be honest, neither sounded appealing. I didn't want to live forever anywhere, even if it was a paradise. The thought of no release terrified me. I thought about it constantly. In school, at home, at dance class, at cheerleading practice. It plagued me. My religious faith began to unravel. The more I thought about the tenets of Christianity, the more my faith eroded.
One day in English class when I was in 11th grade, we were reading various creation stories from around the globe. At this point in time, I had never really thought about where the Universe and Earth came from. However, the idea that it was sitting on a turtle's back was ridiculous. I had understood that the myths we read were exactly that, myths. The last tale we read was Genesis. All of a sudden, a very important realization hit me like a bus.
"This is just as ridiculous as all of the other myths!"
The journey towards atheism for me started right there in English class. A teenage girl who at that time, had little knowledge about evolution, science, cosmology, and the scale of the Universe began thinking about what life really means and where we come from. I do not claim to have all of the answers. Why would I? After all, I am just an animal in a brief existence on a spinning rock.
"The drive is over," I reassure myself upon waking, "you are here in TX now, after months of anticipation. You are all moved in to your apartment. You have been here for over a month now. It's all over."
I wish I knew why this dream keeps plaguing me. I also dream about extraterrestrials, space travel, running from an unseen danger, worm holes, Maxine, my dead grandfather, poisonous beverages, and mysterious forces plotting destruction of the planet. Maybe I should lay off reading Carl Sagan?
Speaking of Maxine and my grandfather, mortality is sobering. I miss the ones I have lost to the inevitable more than I can express in words. I long for my deceased pet rats, Moo and Maxine. I can see images of them scampering across the floor in my mind's eye. I remember chirping "Maxine, Maxine, come here baby!" and looking down to see my faithful friend standing at my feet. I wish my grandparents were still alive. I wish they could see me now, all grown up. What would they think? Would they be pleased with how I turned out? Would they be proud? Would my grandpa and I spend hours arguing about politics? He was a fan of Rush Limbaugh. Would my grandmother be appalled that I am an atheist? I wish I remembered more about them, especially my grandmother. She died when I was only four and my grandfather when I was thirteen.
I understand why the idea of Heaven and an all-loving being watching over us, guiding us is appealing. Like everyone else, I long to see the dead again. I wish they were here with me. How much I would like to hug my grandmother, to show her the woman I have become!
Death is unpleasant. The idea that all living things will at some point cease to exist and be lost to us really, really sucks. I get it, I do. I can sympathize with the pain. I know what is like to wish, to hope with everything that you have that someday, somewhere, we will be reunited with those who have expired.
BUT, the Universe does not act according to our desires. Just because something is unpleasant, such as the idea of entering a dreamless, endless sleep upon dying, does not mean that is untrue.
Mortality is sobering and humbling, but I am personally not afraid of death. I have come to terms with my own brevity and I am no longer scared. When I was a Christian, I was always afraid.
"Am I sinning? Am I going to Hell? How do I know if I am good enough for Heaven?" I often thought. No one, it seemed, could comfort me. No one could give me an answer. No could tell me if I was living correctly. I spent hours contemplating the idea of eternity as a teenager. I thought about the alternatives. Spending an eternity in a hot, torturous place or living FOREVER in some paradise. To be honest, neither sounded appealing. I didn't want to live forever anywhere, even if it was a paradise. The thought of no release terrified me. I thought about it constantly. In school, at home, at dance class, at cheerleading practice. It plagued me. My religious faith began to unravel. The more I thought about the tenets of Christianity, the more my faith eroded.
One day in English class when I was in 11th grade, we were reading various creation stories from around the globe. At this point in time, I had never really thought about where the Universe and Earth came from. However, the idea that it was sitting on a turtle's back was ridiculous. I had understood that the myths we read were exactly that, myths. The last tale we read was Genesis. All of a sudden, a very important realization hit me like a bus.
"This is just as ridiculous as all of the other myths!"
The journey towards atheism for me started right there in English class. A teenage girl who at that time, had little knowledge about evolution, science, cosmology, and the scale of the Universe began thinking about what life really means and where we come from. I do not claim to have all of the answers. Why would I? After all, I am just an animal in a brief existence on a spinning rock.
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