Truth: This is how I'll always be. I've fought against myself, trying to silence my loudness. I was wary of the sound of my own voice. In private conversations, I'd try to take it down a few decibels. I boomed and echoed. In a show I did, I wasn't allowed a microphone because I was naturally so much louder than the rest of the cast. My best friend was embarrassed by the loudness, the unrestrainability of my laughter. I learned to be embarrassed, too. And yes, embarrassment was something I had to learn. It didn't come naturally to me, but once I learned it, I knew it well. I banned family from my piano recitals, afraid of a wrong note, an unpleasant sound. You can cry all you want my grandfather told me but don't make no noise. And for years I've tried to discover the secret I thought everyone else knew, how to be happy with the status quo and learn to peacefully roll along, unasking. My questions are a nuissance, I assure you moreso to me than to you. I know you don't want to talk about it, but as much as I have a responsibility to you, so, too, do you have a responsibility to me. We share this space. So I'll ask all I want, loudly, rudely if I have to.
I used to sprint off from time to time like a mad woman, into the woods. Once, snow lured me out. Once, I was fleeing. Another time, an injured fawn stood and waited for me to heed her situation. I chased her out through briers and vines, no time to put on more clothing than the bikini I was already wearing. I scratched up my stomach, arms, and legs, following her. She wouldn't let me touch her, come too close. But across twisted, reaching branches, I caught her glance, beheld her dark-eyed beauty. I hope she knew at least that she was seen. I saw where the animal had gnawed her hind quarters, causing her to limp. I hope on some level she knew someone wanted to help, even though she couldn't. I came tumbling over the bank, bursting through leaves and weeds, landing back on asphalt where two friends walked. They looked at my scratched body, lightly bleeding in a couple areas, looked confused, concerned. I needed to talk to someone in charge, I informed them. A beautiful young deer, fresh white spots on her back, was injured and probably dying in the woods, and I'd been trusted to get her help. I ran across the property, still not stopping for clothes or shoes, flung open the office door. I was assured a call would be made. Two days later, as I supervised children flinging themselves off the high dive, a truck went back into the woods and left property with a dead fawn in the back. The kids were doing flips, back dives, watermelons. And I wondered, if they slipped, could I really save them? Could I really do anything more than just watch?
...this is not where I intended to take this. What I meant to say was, things made more sense when I was loud and did things like dart off into the woods. I don't do that anymore. And I need to.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
dead bat
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
10:30PM
OK. I've reached that point where I'm ready to go back to Morgantown now. I love my family, and I have truly enjoyed my time here but I'm ready to be able to curl up with John again. I hate that it has to be this way, at our age, at this stage in our relationship, and we both care enough about our relationships with our families that we put our own aside for a week over the holidays. It's really sort of nonsensical, and it's starting to get to me. I want to talk to someone as I fall asleep again, or more likely, insist that he talk to me until I trail off to sleep. My bed here is really starting to hurt me, so I have a futon mattress laid out on the floor here in the family room now. I'm so tired from last night, and everyone is hanging out in here talking. I want to get a shower after a day of shopping and playing with animals, but Mom needs one and she is taking her time getting in there. I love them. I'm trying to chill out and enjoy this, and to this point in the break, I've been fairly successful with just letting it be what it is. Now I want to go back to the trailer, have someone to cuddle with at night, and not have it be an issue with anyone where my belongings are or what time I take my shower. I'm so hoping that my parents will let me sleep in the morning. This is the family room, so they feel this right to come in here and watch tv in the morning. I get that, but there's a tv in the living room too, and I'll only be here a couple more days. I just want to be able to sleep in a way that I don't have to pop ibuprofen first thing in the morning. I want to be greeted in the morning who someone who is glad to have me in their space, where I don't feel in the way and annoying.
We went to Parkersburg today. Bought a bathing suit for New Year's, and then we visited Jody. Well, I'd write more but battery is dying, don't want to lose what I have.
10:30PM
OK. I've reached that point where I'm ready to go back to Morgantown now. I love my family, and I have truly enjoyed my time here but I'm ready to be able to curl up with John again. I hate that it has to be this way, at our age, at this stage in our relationship, and we both care enough about our relationships with our families that we put our own aside for a week over the holidays. It's really sort of nonsensical, and it's starting to get to me. I want to talk to someone as I fall asleep again, or more likely, insist that he talk to me until I trail off to sleep. My bed here is really starting to hurt me, so I have a futon mattress laid out on the floor here in the family room now. I'm so tired from last night, and everyone is hanging out in here talking. I want to get a shower after a day of shopping and playing with animals, but Mom needs one and she is taking her time getting in there. I love them. I'm trying to chill out and enjoy this, and to this point in the break, I've been fairly successful with just letting it be what it is. Now I want to go back to the trailer, have someone to cuddle with at night, and not have it be an issue with anyone where my belongings are or what time I take my shower. I'm so hoping that my parents will let me sleep in the morning. This is the family room, so they feel this right to come in here and watch tv in the morning. I get that, but there's a tv in the living room too, and I'll only be here a couple more days. I just want to be able to sleep in a way that I don't have to pop ibuprofen first thing in the morning. I want to be greeted in the morning who someone who is glad to have me in their space, where I don't feel in the way and annoying.
We went to Parkersburg today. Bought a bathing suit for New Year's, and then we visited Jody. Well, I'd write more but battery is dying, don't want to lose what I have.
Past couple days
Wednesday, December 29. 2010
10:58AM
Woke up with a major neck pain and, consequentially, a tension headache. It hurt so bad I was nauseated. I didn't get home until almost 5am last night and would have liked to have slept longer, but I couldn't for the pain. So I got up, popped a couple ibuprofen, ate some cereal even though I was already nauseated because, knowing me, medicine on an empty stomach would not be good. Got some coffee and sat on the Shiatsu massager my parents got a couple years ago for Christmas. I still have a mild head and neck ache, but it's tolerable now. Part of the issue may be the fact that I spent 90 minutes lifting weights yesterday (gotta get your money's worth- they jacked the prices at Work's to $7.00 a pop), but I think the main issue is this bed I sleep on here. I picked it out when I was in fourth grade, when I barely weighed 60 pounds, so half my current body weight, and didn't need as much support. Add to that the years of wear and tare and the fact that I have a whole slew of back problems anyway and have gotten used to using a memory foam mattress, and I am miserable just about every morning I wake up here. >:(
So... yesterday I did go up to Work's. Dad didn't want to lift, but he did want to come in with me. There were a lot of people there, a lot of his friends. Like I said, I did quite a lot of lifting for one day, more than I really ever do, I think, perhaps more than I've ever done in one session. But I didn't want to pay to go back the next two days, so I wanted to make it count.
After the gym, came home, had soup and a burger for lunch. Showered, went up to Baristas with John. The idea was to do some reading for school, but we wound up just talking. Marlee Amos met me there at 5:30. We'd been planning to meet up and catch up on some things. We never had the opportunity to hang out a whole lot in school, but we were in band together and I always thought she was a pretty cool person. She's got a trip coming up to El Salvador, so that's exciting! I wish I was going.
There was supposed to be a poetry reading at 7pm, but it wound up being just me and Bill Flewelling, a man in his sixties who used to be a minister here in town. I enjoyed our poetry sharing, but I also would have liked to have seen some of the old gang, too. I was sort of bummed to not see more people.
Came home to visit with my parents only to discover they were gone to a Christmas party for one of their workplaces. So I went up to the Ballards', where John, Mark, Constance, and Andy were hanging out. John and I went to ChooChoo's to grab dinner, stopped at Witschey's for a six-pack, and then went back to the Ballards' to hang out. I wound up being there until almost 5am talking to Mark. It was nice catching up. I mean, I grew up with those boys and now I hardly ever talk to them. Andy went to sleep around 2:30 I think, and John was passed out on the couch. I had to wake him up to take me home- don't care, I'm not walking down that dark hill alone in the middle of the night.
On Monday, Carly and I went up to St. Clairsville and went shopping. Our parents gave us some money for Christmas, and I used mine to buy clothes that I really really needed. Shopping is not my favorite thing- I get tired and sore, irritated. But it was nice to spend the day with my sister, and it's definitely nice to have some jeans I don't have to jump and wriggle to get myself in.
10:58AM
Woke up with a major neck pain and, consequentially, a tension headache. It hurt so bad I was nauseated. I didn't get home until almost 5am last night and would have liked to have slept longer, but I couldn't for the pain. So I got up, popped a couple ibuprofen, ate some cereal even though I was already nauseated because, knowing me, medicine on an empty stomach would not be good. Got some coffee and sat on the Shiatsu massager my parents got a couple years ago for Christmas. I still have a mild head and neck ache, but it's tolerable now. Part of the issue may be the fact that I spent 90 minutes lifting weights yesterday (gotta get your money's worth- they jacked the prices at Work's to $7.00 a pop), but I think the main issue is this bed I sleep on here. I picked it out when I was in fourth grade, when I barely weighed 60 pounds, so half my current body weight, and didn't need as much support. Add to that the years of wear and tare and the fact that I have a whole slew of back problems anyway and have gotten used to using a memory foam mattress, and I am miserable just about every morning I wake up here. >:(
So... yesterday I did go up to Work's. Dad didn't want to lift, but he did want to come in with me. There were a lot of people there, a lot of his friends. Like I said, I did quite a lot of lifting for one day, more than I really ever do, I think, perhaps more than I've ever done in one session. But I didn't want to pay to go back the next two days, so I wanted to make it count.
After the gym, came home, had soup and a burger for lunch. Showered, went up to Baristas with John. The idea was to do some reading for school, but we wound up just talking. Marlee Amos met me there at 5:30. We'd been planning to meet up and catch up on some things. We never had the opportunity to hang out a whole lot in school, but we were in band together and I always thought she was a pretty cool person. She's got a trip coming up to El Salvador, so that's exciting! I wish I was going.
There was supposed to be a poetry reading at 7pm, but it wound up being just me and Bill Flewelling, a man in his sixties who used to be a minister here in town. I enjoyed our poetry sharing, but I also would have liked to have seen some of the old gang, too. I was sort of bummed to not see more people.
Came home to visit with my parents only to discover they were gone to a Christmas party for one of their workplaces. So I went up to the Ballards', where John, Mark, Constance, and Andy were hanging out. John and I went to ChooChoo's to grab dinner, stopped at Witschey's for a six-pack, and then went back to the Ballards' to hang out. I wound up being there until almost 5am talking to Mark. It was nice catching up. I mean, I grew up with those boys and now I hardly ever talk to them. Andy went to sleep around 2:30 I think, and John was passed out on the couch. I had to wake him up to take me home- don't care, I'm not walking down that dark hill alone in the middle of the night.
On Monday, Carly and I went up to St. Clairsville and went shopping. Our parents gave us some money for Christmas, and I used mine to buy clothes that I really really needed. Shopping is not my favorite thing- I get tired and sore, irritated. But it was nice to spend the day with my sister, and it's definitely nice to have some jeans I don't have to jump and wriggle to get myself in.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Fox Family Christmas Party
Sunday, December 26, 2010
11:39pm
Woke up about nine, had some coffee while waiting for the gym to open and finished reading my first book for next semester. Wound up not going to the gym but rather going to Lori's and Archie's and working out in their gym with Erica. Despite a treadmill that skips and being able to see our breath out there, we got a good workout in. Just took turns between cardio and weight training. Glad I learned about giant sets, because they're easy to do with minimal equipment. Did some on the treadmill, some kick boxing, some Zumba... just to get it in. Home, showered, searched for a gift for White Elephant. Eventually I settled on the locket that my seventh grade boyfriend gave me. It's real gold, and it's very pretty. I like it a lot, but I just can't imagine wearing someone else's heart shaped locket and that not being weird now that I'm with John and that guy's married. Better to give it to someone who can enjoy it for its superficial qualities.
We had the Fox Family Christmas party this evening at Lori's. There were sixteen of us in attendance- Mam-maw (who was in a great mood relatively speaking), Pap-paw, Lori, Archie, Emily, Erica, Mom, Dad, Carly, me, Bryan, Natalie, John, Megan, my John, and Todd. I was having major allergy problems with the dogs, of course. Natalie gave me a claritin, but I think I needed benadryl. Why am I such an allergic person? I'm freaking allergic to everything. We played some games, Pac Man being one of them... I did awful. Didn't break 10,000 once. I'm blaming it on the allergies, as we all know I am a PacMan master. :(
That's really about all I've done today- read, exercise, Christmas party. I think I'll get a shower now and go to bed allergen-free. Oh yeah, and I fouled up my computer again. I'm on my mom's right now. I'm sooooooooooo tired of getting viruses on that machine. This is the fourth time it's been majorly infected.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Christmas 2010
Sunday, December 26, 2010
12:41am (again as if it were the previous day, Christmas in this case)
Slept in 'til 10:30. Carly's bedroom door was still locked, but I heard my parents stirring downstairs. Blessing of blessings, coffee was made and they hadn't drained the whole pot yet. Usually, they've consumed one in its entirety by the time I wake up here, even if that's 8am. It's ridiculous. Dad made pancakes for breakfast, and between everyone getting their showers and Mom starting a pot of vegetable soup, we didn't even start opening gifts until 12:30. I'm glad everyone kept their word to be a little lower key than usual about gift-giving this year, because I, for one, am broke and couldn't afford to give much. Still, though, I think everyone got something they really liked. My mom got me a sweater and a jacket, both of which I have to take and exchange for a larger size. Dad gave me an Ecuadorian necklace and earrings set that I love very much. They're very much to my taste, and I think it's sweet he remembered a specific dress that he imagines them to go with. :) We watched A Christmas Story and worked crossword puzzles from about 2-4. Then John came down, and my parents gave him his gifts from them. Erica came up, then Mam-maw, and Pap-paw. I was glad not to be asked to drag out my gifts to show this year for a change. It was nice to just sit on the couch, have a cup of coffee, and spend time with the family. Went to John's family's house. Exchanged gifts up there, John and I took his dog on a walk. Carride, of course McD's was not open on Christmas in NM, both of us came back here, had some vegetable soup and mom's homemade bread. John went home, I sat in the family room briefly with my family, and now I'm in bed writing this. Prob. read a few pages in my book and go to sleep. Another big day tomorrow with the Fox Family Christmas Party at Lori's. I better wake up with my game face on, lol. John's parents got me a new pair of weight lifting gloves, so I can hit the weights with those and get myself ready lol.
More reflectively, though... this Christmas has been going really well, even better than expected. No one in my immediate family has been overly-focused on gifts, so there hasn't been the mayhem of last minute shopping trips and frenzied wrapping. That always sucks so much energy out of me when I'd rather just be hanging out in my pjs eating cookies (Carly made several dozen to perfection today, btw.) and having coffee, watching our favorite Christmas movies. Also, I feel that the parents are making a different kind of effort to interact with Carly and me... sort of a recognition that college and living on your own for five-six years does make you a different person. I don't feel as pressured to be the same person they remembered six years ago, and that's infinitely calming. Probably, too, my perspective has changed. I've been working on a lot of things, too, I mean... really, really trying, and perhaps I've been able to give myself enough distance to look at things differently. One way or the other, I've just felt calm... not so whacked out as I usually get when I come home. So it's been really, really nice to this point, and I'm hoping for more of the same tomorrow. :)
12:41am (again as if it were the previous day, Christmas in this case)
Slept in 'til 10:30. Carly's bedroom door was still locked, but I heard my parents stirring downstairs. Blessing of blessings, coffee was made and they hadn't drained the whole pot yet. Usually, they've consumed one in its entirety by the time I wake up here, even if that's 8am. It's ridiculous. Dad made pancakes for breakfast, and between everyone getting their showers and Mom starting a pot of vegetable soup, we didn't even start opening gifts until 12:30. I'm glad everyone kept their word to be a little lower key than usual about gift-giving this year, because I, for one, am broke and couldn't afford to give much. Still, though, I think everyone got something they really liked. My mom got me a sweater and a jacket, both of which I have to take and exchange for a larger size. Dad gave me an Ecuadorian necklace and earrings set that I love very much. They're very much to my taste, and I think it's sweet he remembered a specific dress that he imagines them to go with. :) We watched A Christmas Story and worked crossword puzzles from about 2-4. Then John came down, and my parents gave him his gifts from them. Erica came up, then Mam-maw, and Pap-paw. I was glad not to be asked to drag out my gifts to show this year for a change. It was nice to just sit on the couch, have a cup of coffee, and spend time with the family. Went to John's family's house. Exchanged gifts up there, John and I took his dog on a walk. Carride, of course McD's was not open on Christmas in NM, both of us came back here, had some vegetable soup and mom's homemade bread. John went home, I sat in the family room briefly with my family, and now I'm in bed writing this. Prob. read a few pages in my book and go to sleep. Another big day tomorrow with the Fox Family Christmas Party at Lori's. I better wake up with my game face on, lol. John's parents got me a new pair of weight lifting gloves, so I can hit the weights with those and get myself ready lol.
More reflectively, though... this Christmas has been going really well, even better than expected. No one in my immediate family has been overly-focused on gifts, so there hasn't been the mayhem of last minute shopping trips and frenzied wrapping. That always sucks so much energy out of me when I'd rather just be hanging out in my pjs eating cookies (Carly made several dozen to perfection today, btw.) and having coffee, watching our favorite Christmas movies. Also, I feel that the parents are making a different kind of effort to interact with Carly and me... sort of a recognition that college and living on your own for five-six years does make you a different person. I don't feel as pressured to be the same person they remembered six years ago, and that's infinitely calming. Probably, too, my perspective has changed. I've been working on a lot of things, too, I mean... really, really trying, and perhaps I've been able to give myself enough distance to look at things differently. One way or the other, I've just felt calm... not so whacked out as I usually get when I come home. So it's been really, really nice to this point, and I'm hoping for more of the same tomorrow. :)
Friday, December 24, 2010
Christmas Eve
Saturday, December 25, 2010
2:05AM
Merry Christmas, all! (Although, since I'm just now going to bed I'm writing this as if it were still Christmas Eve.)
Woke up a little after 8. Cheerios and coffee. Upwords with Dad. Played piano. Did Zumba in the living room with Carly and Mom. Showered. New Mart. w/Carly to try to get a particular item for John for Christmas. Didn't have the correct size, so f that. Long way home, not sure why, sequestered self in bedroom and read the first half of the first novel for next semester. Rest of the family played Phase 10. Went to Lori's and hung out with all them. Erica is in. All of us watched Christmas Vacation and some Jeff Dunham comedy. Went home, got ready, went to Midnight Mass w/Mom and Carly. Obviously not feeling religious as per usual and far from inclined toward a Christian religious celebration, however I was hoping Mrs. Daly and Mr. Ensinger would be playing piano together as in years past. When they do, that lifts my soul so much more than any scripture passage or homily could ever hope to. That music and connection affirms my spirituality for me, so that's what I was going for. They weren't playing. Started getting claustrophobic and wanted an eject button. Texting back and forth with John to pass time before Mass started. It wasn't a terrible service, just odd to think back to two or three years ago when I shared every belief with them all. How can I be a totally different person now? But I chose to investigate, and I had to be open to the answers. And I can still see some value in Christianity. A Divine Being can manifest itself anyway it likes. If it chooses to clothe itself in Christianity in certain instances, that's fine; I just wish people would keep it in perspective in that way. For me, give me beautiful music, a beautiful landscape, or the loving heart of a close friend or lover, and I know I'm at peace.
Mam-maw sick as expected. Was going to visit her before going to Lori's tonight. Called down to the trailer, Pap-paw answered, said he was putting her to bed. I asked if she might want me to come visit. He asked her, and I heard her crying in the background that she was just too tired. I hate that she felt guilty about not wanting me down there. I hate that she didn't make it to Lori's with the rest of us. I hope she's feeling better tomorrow and can come join us. I guess earlier today Pap-paw was going to take her to the hospital for some reason. She said she didn't need to and would be fine, but if going to bed crying at 7pm is fine, I'm a monkey's ass. I hope she isn't faking wellness just for Christmas, though I couldn't blame her if she was. I just don't want to see her wind up in worse shape than necessary trying to tough it out.
Tom. will be busy. Plans with my family, John's family, prob see Lori's family again, visit Mam-maw and Pap-paw. So I should go to bed I suppose. Nite, merry Christmas!
2:05AM
Merry Christmas, all! (Although, since I'm just now going to bed I'm writing this as if it were still Christmas Eve.)
Woke up a little after 8. Cheerios and coffee. Upwords with Dad. Played piano. Did Zumba in the living room with Carly and Mom. Showered. New Mart. w/Carly to try to get a particular item for John for Christmas. Didn't have the correct size, so f that. Long way home, not sure why, sequestered self in bedroom and read the first half of the first novel for next semester. Rest of the family played Phase 10. Went to Lori's and hung out with all them. Erica is in. All of us watched Christmas Vacation and some Jeff Dunham comedy. Went home, got ready, went to Midnight Mass w/Mom and Carly. Obviously not feeling religious as per usual and far from inclined toward a Christian religious celebration, however I was hoping Mrs. Daly and Mr. Ensinger would be playing piano together as in years past. When they do, that lifts my soul so much more than any scripture passage or homily could ever hope to. That music and connection affirms my spirituality for me, so that's what I was going for. They weren't playing. Started getting claustrophobic and wanted an eject button. Texting back and forth with John to pass time before Mass started. It wasn't a terrible service, just odd to think back to two or three years ago when I shared every belief with them all. How can I be a totally different person now? But I chose to investigate, and I had to be open to the answers. And I can still see some value in Christianity. A Divine Being can manifest itself anyway it likes. If it chooses to clothe itself in Christianity in certain instances, that's fine; I just wish people would keep it in perspective in that way. For me, give me beautiful music, a beautiful landscape, or the loving heart of a close friend or lover, and I know I'm at peace.
Mam-maw sick as expected. Was going to visit her before going to Lori's tonight. Called down to the trailer, Pap-paw answered, said he was putting her to bed. I asked if she might want me to come visit. He asked her, and I heard her crying in the background that she was just too tired. I hate that she felt guilty about not wanting me down there. I hate that she didn't make it to Lori's with the rest of us. I hope she's feeling better tomorrow and can come join us. I guess earlier today Pap-paw was going to take her to the hospital for some reason. She said she didn't need to and would be fine, but if going to bed crying at 7pm is fine, I'm a monkey's ass. I hope she isn't faking wellness just for Christmas, though I couldn't blame her if she was. I just don't want to see her wind up in worse shape than necessary trying to tough it out.
Tom. will be busy. Plans with my family, John's family, prob see Lori's family again, visit Mam-maw and Pap-paw. So I should go to bed I suppose. Nite, merry Christmas!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Christmas Eve Eve
Friday, December 24, 2010
12:56 am (so pretending this is still Thursday)
Well, I'm officially home for Christmas break now. I procrastinated about coming. I appreciate my home and my family, but there is definitely something to be said for doing as you please in your own space.
This am, got up late around 10. Had some cheerios and coffee, investigated summer language study abroad, volunteer abroad, and teaching abroad programs. I really want to be somewhere Spanish-speaking this summer. That's something I'll probably have to discuss at some point while I'm home and would rather not. It's no secret I need a new car. My transmission is slowly dying, and to have it fixed would cost more than the car's current value. I'd talked about taking a loan to get a new one, but I'd rather use my loan money to travel abroad. Life's short, I have strong legs, lungs and heart for hiking or running, and there is a bus. I just don't want to be one of those people who has all these dreams and good intentions and then winds up 30-something having accomplished none of it and now in no good position to do so. So... I'm trying.
Played piano for about half an hour then went to the Rec. John was going to come with me but was obviously nervous about his packages arriving. It's been a big thing this year in our area for packages to be stolen. Somehow he thought I was going to be really mad if he wanted to stay and wait on his delivery, but such wasn't the case and so I just had him drop me off. I ran three miles, did three sets push-ups (New Year's Resolution- be able to do 100 in a row, I'm only to 20 right now haha), rear flyes, tricep dips, 21's, and upright rows. Then deadlifts and heel raises. Then ad- and ab-ductors. By this time I'm starving, so I call John, and while I'm finishing up with abs he's on his way. The workout got a little more extreme than I intended it to, but I'll have more than a couple days off over break I'm sure. I went home and ate a big plate of lasagna.
Showered and started to get finished packing. I hate packing to come home. It makes me so tweaky. And then I get ridiculous separation anxiety about leaving John. Today I was actually in tears over it. I probably would have stayed and waited another night with him due to his sister's Christmas gift being delivered late. But I could realize how ridiculous and irrational I was being. I felt a need to defeat that, so I got in the car and drove... despite a few phone calls back to John to make sure he didn't really need me to stay with him after all. I get worried about having loved ones on the road, and now that we aren't caravannig, he'll have to make the trip alone. That worries me. I've never lost a family member to a car accident, so I don't know why I'm so bizarre on this point. When I used to take dance lessons, I remember my mom was often late (it's a family thing... tardiness), and I'd think she'd died. So I would stand in the window, watching for her, sometimes crying, sometimes trying really hard not to. I need to learn to trust that people are going to be just fine without my intervention.
I decided to take the interstate home since it was snowing and getting dark quickly. Due to lack of radio options, I listened to my current Zumba mix as well as Reba McEntire yet again. The trip home was slow because of thick holiday traffic and road/visibility conditions. The car did fine despite a lot of vibration in the front end- shimmy again, maybe? Transmission does better in the cold- keep it up, Global Warming!
Got home. Mom helped me unload the car, of course with a few comments about how much I'd brought with me. whatever. I like to be able to choose an outfit for the day not just dig out the last clean thing from the bottom of the suitcase. Besides, as disorganized as I am, it's easier to just drag the majority of what I own with me as opposed to organizing it all and trying to figure out which pieces I need to take with me.
Then we went to the piano. I played the John Denver ones I'm still working on... hardly had an opportunity at all the last three weeks of classes to play. Actually I don't think I plugged the piano in at all during that time... yay papers! Since flutes are C instruments, she was able to just play the melody line along with me without it sounding weird. We did a couple other ones, too.
Dad came home from work. I cooked up some broccoli to go with the leftover chicken and potatoes. Cleaned up the kitchen, ate my food, helped Mom make fudge. Mostly, just trying to keep busy because being home really does make me tweaky sometimes. Figured I'd try to get tired to doing work, yet here it is 1:30 and I'm still wide awake. Oh well.
Carly and I spent most of the night up here in my bedroom catching up, reminiscing, sharing opinions on the psychic happenings in the world :)- you know... no matter how many people tell me things freak them out, I just don't get it. It's obvious to me. Yeah, everything has some electromagnetic energy, so why wouldn't we be able to communicate with it, interpret it? It's not some new age voodoo... I mean... it's real. Eventually, I think there will be lab tools that can prove it. Anyway...
Our last escapade before settling down for the night was to take a couple of her babydolls and stick them in our sleeping parents' arms. They both passed out in the family room on the couches. Typical. We got away with it. >:)
12:56 am (so pretending this is still Thursday)
Well, I'm officially home for Christmas break now. I procrastinated about coming. I appreciate my home and my family, but there is definitely something to be said for doing as you please in your own space.
This am, got up late around 10. Had some cheerios and coffee, investigated summer language study abroad, volunteer abroad, and teaching abroad programs. I really want to be somewhere Spanish-speaking this summer. That's something I'll probably have to discuss at some point while I'm home and would rather not. It's no secret I need a new car. My transmission is slowly dying, and to have it fixed would cost more than the car's current value. I'd talked about taking a loan to get a new one, but I'd rather use my loan money to travel abroad. Life's short, I have strong legs, lungs and heart for hiking or running, and there is a bus. I just don't want to be one of those people who has all these dreams and good intentions and then winds up 30-something having accomplished none of it and now in no good position to do so. So... I'm trying.
Played piano for about half an hour then went to the Rec. John was going to come with me but was obviously nervous about his packages arriving. It's been a big thing this year in our area for packages to be stolen. Somehow he thought I was going to be really mad if he wanted to stay and wait on his delivery, but such wasn't the case and so I just had him drop me off. I ran three miles, did three sets push-ups (New Year's Resolution- be able to do 100 in a row, I'm only to 20 right now haha), rear flyes, tricep dips, 21's, and upright rows. Then deadlifts and heel raises. Then ad- and ab-ductors. By this time I'm starving, so I call John, and while I'm finishing up with abs he's on his way. The workout got a little more extreme than I intended it to, but I'll have more than a couple days off over break I'm sure. I went home and ate a big plate of lasagna.
Showered and started to get finished packing. I hate packing to come home. It makes me so tweaky. And then I get ridiculous separation anxiety about leaving John. Today I was actually in tears over it. I probably would have stayed and waited another night with him due to his sister's Christmas gift being delivered late. But I could realize how ridiculous and irrational I was being. I felt a need to defeat that, so I got in the car and drove... despite a few phone calls back to John to make sure he didn't really need me to stay with him after all. I get worried about having loved ones on the road, and now that we aren't caravannig, he'll have to make the trip alone. That worries me. I've never lost a family member to a car accident, so I don't know why I'm so bizarre on this point. When I used to take dance lessons, I remember my mom was often late (it's a family thing... tardiness), and I'd think she'd died. So I would stand in the window, watching for her, sometimes crying, sometimes trying really hard not to. I need to learn to trust that people are going to be just fine without my intervention.
I decided to take the interstate home since it was snowing and getting dark quickly. Due to lack of radio options, I listened to my current Zumba mix as well as Reba McEntire yet again. The trip home was slow because of thick holiday traffic and road/visibility conditions. The car did fine despite a lot of vibration in the front end- shimmy again, maybe? Transmission does better in the cold- keep it up, Global Warming!
Got home. Mom helped me unload the car, of course with a few comments about how much I'd brought with me. whatever. I like to be able to choose an outfit for the day not just dig out the last clean thing from the bottom of the suitcase. Besides, as disorganized as I am, it's easier to just drag the majority of what I own with me as opposed to organizing it all and trying to figure out which pieces I need to take with me.
Then we went to the piano. I played the John Denver ones I'm still working on... hardly had an opportunity at all the last three weeks of classes to play. Actually I don't think I plugged the piano in at all during that time... yay papers! Since flutes are C instruments, she was able to just play the melody line along with me without it sounding weird. We did a couple other ones, too.
Dad came home from work. I cooked up some broccoli to go with the leftover chicken and potatoes. Cleaned up the kitchen, ate my food, helped Mom make fudge. Mostly, just trying to keep busy because being home really does make me tweaky sometimes. Figured I'd try to get tired to doing work, yet here it is 1:30 and I'm still wide awake. Oh well.
Carly and I spent most of the night up here in my bedroom catching up, reminiscing, sharing opinions on the psychic happenings in the world :)- you know... no matter how many people tell me things freak them out, I just don't get it. It's obvious to me. Yeah, everything has some electromagnetic energy, so why wouldn't we be able to communicate with it, interpret it? It's not some new age voodoo... I mean... it's real. Eventually, I think there will be lab tools that can prove it. Anyway...
Our last escapade before settling down for the night was to take a couple of her babydolls and stick them in our sleeping parents' arms. They both passed out in the family room on the couches. Typical. We got away with it. >:)
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Kitty Love
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
4:18PM
I just read a friend's post about pets and the connection we have with animals, which reminded me of my old cat Artemis, a beautiful horse named Tango, and the fact that I want to get a pet, a cat. I do love animals. In some ways, I enjoy them more than people. Animals don't know how to lie. You may catch them doing something they oughtn't, but they just look at you afterward. They don't deny it, and that makes forgiveness so much easier. Given the choice, it's hard to say whether or not animals would be honest, but the thing is, they are and I love that about them.
Artemis was my favorite cat ever. I had several great ones, but this one was mine. Kristen and I rode out to my high school friend Ashley's grandmother's house in Friendly and picked her from her litter mates. She was tiny and mewed the whole way home, crawling all over Kristen. Once at home, she treated me like a mother duck for several weeks, following me all over the house, wherever I went. Frequently, in her very young kitten days, that meant that she would follow me right into the bathroom, even into the bath. The first time, I didn't know to expect it. She climbed up on the ledge of the bath and was pawing at the water. I thought she was just trying to figure out what it was and once she understood it was water, she would find it distasteful and wait for me elsewhere. Nope, not this cat. She liked water and jumped right in, her small paws flapping like platypus flippers out to the sides of her round kitten belly. She didn't meow, panic, anything of the sort. I scooped her up out of the water and sat her on the floor where I began the long process of drying her off with the blowdryer. If you've never blow dried a cat, it takes a long time. Idk, I thought she might get pneumonia. I let her back in the bathroom next time, figuring it was a one time deal, she'd learned her lesson, and like a normal cat, wouldn't be back in the bath. Wrong. She made her second jump the very next bath. And other times, she would crawl from the ledge, out my shoulder and all the way down my chest, as if my body was a beach leading her into the ocean, and just paw at the water awhile. I loved that cat.
My mom wanted to have her spayed. This caused me to freak out. I started bawling hysterically, asserting that it was my cat and I thought it was cruel to take away her ability to have at least one litter since she couldn't speak against it. I'm not saying let's let all the strays run around and reproduce wildly. But this was one cat, who was well-cared for, and I felt mean about having her cut open only to wake up and not be able to reproduce anymore. We assume animals don't know the difference, but how can we be sure? I mean, if someone drugged us, cut out our reproductive organs, and we woke up the next morning with a scar and a lot of soreness, wouldn't we think something other than the obvious, superficial signs had gone wrong? My mom could see I wasn't going to calm down about this and would clearly see her as the devil if she forced me to get my cat, who I felt I was supposed to protect, spayed.
Anyway, as luck would have it, Artemis got knocked up of course. I was excited. The only animal babies I'd ever seen as a kid, I mean... at home... were little wriggling hamster babies that looked like hunks of ham with faces. They were cute and all, but I couldn't hold them and play with them much. So Artemis went weirdo-cat on my ass again, and one night about three in the morning, I woke up to the sounds of her munching placenta off her first newborn-- on the pillow beside my head. (Thanks, Cat, I guess that's what pillow cases are for.) I remember feeling so calm, thinking, oh whatever, she's just having her kittens. She knows what to do. In my fog, I rolled back over and nearly went back to sleep. Nature told me I should just go to sleep. My training told me I should go wake my parents and have them take care of her in case she needed help. So within minutes, the whole family was in my bedroom, and my dad was petting my cat after she got her second and last kitten out. Understandably, she was tired, and soon went to sleep.
She was a good mama. Some of her behaviors really cracked me up. Of course, as the little kittens tried to learn how to use the litter box, they weren't initially very good at it. They scattered litter everywhere and tracked it out on their fits and low-dragging bellies as well. That meant the need for frequent vacuuming. Artemis did not like the vacuum. She seemed to think it was a demon come to snatch her babies. She swat at it like a maniac, and did this bizarre battle cry: Hiss-snort-hiss, hiss-snort-hiss. My mom loved to mock that battle cry, and most times she'd wind up crying laughing about it. It caused my dad to start referring to her as "Tardamis." I always felt special and honored when she'd drag her kittens out from under the bed by the scruffs of their necks and present them to me, and let me play with them. I remember, one day I had Andy over, and she was hiding under the bed with the kittens. I wanted her to get the kittens so we could see them, and she seemed to understand that as she went under the bed and brought them out for us.
Then my freshman year of college, I remember my dad coming over to pick me up for a weekend, and we were on our way back across Route 7. Freshman year, particularly the second semester, was really hard on me. I didn't want to be in school at all, it was just what I was doing as the next natural step. I felt cut off from all social ties- I always got along better with people significantly older than myself and suddenly I was surrounded only by people my own age. That made me feel displaced. At home, I did everyone's laundry, not just mine, and I remember feeling really sad one day as I went to do laundry in the dorm, because no one else's laundry was mixed in with mine. Then I had a young friend die in a car accident and also just had a total existential meltdown/crisis. I told my dad I couldn't wait to go see Artemis. I had a connection with that cat, and even though I obviously couldn't tell the cat what was going on, I knew I'd feel calm if I could just play with her for awhile. The way the semester was going, I wasn't even surprised when he told me my cat was dead, that she'd been hit by a car while I was gone. I remember just being numb, not crying, thinking, of course my cat got hit by a car. My parents didn't know I'd started seeing a therapist that semester. Things were rough, I just wanted my cat.
I used to play this game with her, once I noticed it worked. I'd look her straight in the eyeballs and will her not to look away until I looked away, and crazy thing that she was, she never did. I could hold her like that from across the room, indefinitely. She was strange and moody, like me really, not huge on being picked up, dragged around, excessively affectionate... unless it was on her terms, and then she'd demand all the attention you could muster.
Carly's cat, Aphrodite, was the more affectionate one. Man was that cat a little attention whore. She climb in everyone's laps, including my grandmother's, who hates cats, and press her face up under their chin. She would then proceed to pass out and take a thirty minute nap in your lap while you petted her and she purred. Unfortunately, she, too made it to the highway.
Before she died, she developed either a bladder or behavior problem. We aren't really sure which. But because of that, my parents have refused to get anymore cats. It never seems quite like home without a cat. It never seems quite like Christmas without a cat knocking off glass ornaments and smashing them against some corner somewhere, or chasing balls of wrapping paper around the room and gnawing on them. That gradually became my favorite part of Christmas, just watching the cats chase around wads of wrapping paper. Here we'd all blown ridiculous sums of money on buying gifts, and the part that interested the cats was our refuse. Our cats were always confused by Christmas. Suddenly the family room is a mess, plastic bags, tags everywhere, people coming and going. They'd come out for awhile to chase the wrapping paper balls and then slink back under the tree for a nap. We knew they were awake again when the tree would start to sway and we saw paws sticking out from the low branches, poking at some twirling figurine of Santa Claus. The cats made Christmas for me. I think I'll get another cat soon. :) <3
4:18PM
I just read a friend's post about pets and the connection we have with animals, which reminded me of my old cat Artemis, a beautiful horse named Tango, and the fact that I want to get a pet, a cat. I do love animals. In some ways, I enjoy them more than people. Animals don't know how to lie. You may catch them doing something they oughtn't, but they just look at you afterward. They don't deny it, and that makes forgiveness so much easier. Given the choice, it's hard to say whether or not animals would be honest, but the thing is, they are and I love that about them.
Artemis was my favorite cat ever. I had several great ones, but this one was mine. Kristen and I rode out to my high school friend Ashley's grandmother's house in Friendly and picked her from her litter mates. She was tiny and mewed the whole way home, crawling all over Kristen. Once at home, she treated me like a mother duck for several weeks, following me all over the house, wherever I went. Frequently, in her very young kitten days, that meant that she would follow me right into the bathroom, even into the bath. The first time, I didn't know to expect it. She climbed up on the ledge of the bath and was pawing at the water. I thought she was just trying to figure out what it was and once she understood it was water, she would find it distasteful and wait for me elsewhere. Nope, not this cat. She liked water and jumped right in, her small paws flapping like platypus flippers out to the sides of her round kitten belly. She didn't meow, panic, anything of the sort. I scooped her up out of the water and sat her on the floor where I began the long process of drying her off with the blowdryer. If you've never blow dried a cat, it takes a long time. Idk, I thought she might get pneumonia. I let her back in the bathroom next time, figuring it was a one time deal, she'd learned her lesson, and like a normal cat, wouldn't be back in the bath. Wrong. She made her second jump the very next bath. And other times, she would crawl from the ledge, out my shoulder and all the way down my chest, as if my body was a beach leading her into the ocean, and just paw at the water awhile. I loved that cat.
My mom wanted to have her spayed. This caused me to freak out. I started bawling hysterically, asserting that it was my cat and I thought it was cruel to take away her ability to have at least one litter since she couldn't speak against it. I'm not saying let's let all the strays run around and reproduce wildly. But this was one cat, who was well-cared for, and I felt mean about having her cut open only to wake up and not be able to reproduce anymore. We assume animals don't know the difference, but how can we be sure? I mean, if someone drugged us, cut out our reproductive organs, and we woke up the next morning with a scar and a lot of soreness, wouldn't we think something other than the obvious, superficial signs had gone wrong? My mom could see I wasn't going to calm down about this and would clearly see her as the devil if she forced me to get my cat, who I felt I was supposed to protect, spayed.
Anyway, as luck would have it, Artemis got knocked up of course. I was excited. The only animal babies I'd ever seen as a kid, I mean... at home... were little wriggling hamster babies that looked like hunks of ham with faces. They were cute and all, but I couldn't hold them and play with them much. So Artemis went weirdo-cat on my ass again, and one night about three in the morning, I woke up to the sounds of her munching placenta off her first newborn-- on the pillow beside my head. (Thanks, Cat, I guess that's what pillow cases are for.) I remember feeling so calm, thinking, oh whatever, she's just having her kittens. She knows what to do. In my fog, I rolled back over and nearly went back to sleep. Nature told me I should just go to sleep. My training told me I should go wake my parents and have them take care of her in case she needed help. So within minutes, the whole family was in my bedroom, and my dad was petting my cat after she got her second and last kitten out. Understandably, she was tired, and soon went to sleep.
She was a good mama. Some of her behaviors really cracked me up. Of course, as the little kittens tried to learn how to use the litter box, they weren't initially very good at it. They scattered litter everywhere and tracked it out on their fits and low-dragging bellies as well. That meant the need for frequent vacuuming. Artemis did not like the vacuum. She seemed to think it was a demon come to snatch her babies. She swat at it like a maniac, and did this bizarre battle cry: Hiss-snort-hiss, hiss-snort-hiss. My mom loved to mock that battle cry, and most times she'd wind up crying laughing about it. It caused my dad to start referring to her as "Tardamis." I always felt special and honored when she'd drag her kittens out from under the bed by the scruffs of their necks and present them to me, and let me play with them. I remember, one day I had Andy over, and she was hiding under the bed with the kittens. I wanted her to get the kittens so we could see them, and she seemed to understand that as she went under the bed and brought them out for us.
Then my freshman year of college, I remember my dad coming over to pick me up for a weekend, and we were on our way back across Route 7. Freshman year, particularly the second semester, was really hard on me. I didn't want to be in school at all, it was just what I was doing as the next natural step. I felt cut off from all social ties- I always got along better with people significantly older than myself and suddenly I was surrounded only by people my own age. That made me feel displaced. At home, I did everyone's laundry, not just mine, and I remember feeling really sad one day as I went to do laundry in the dorm, because no one else's laundry was mixed in with mine. Then I had a young friend die in a car accident and also just had a total existential meltdown/crisis. I told my dad I couldn't wait to go see Artemis. I had a connection with that cat, and even though I obviously couldn't tell the cat what was going on, I knew I'd feel calm if I could just play with her for awhile. The way the semester was going, I wasn't even surprised when he told me my cat was dead, that she'd been hit by a car while I was gone. I remember just being numb, not crying, thinking, of course my cat got hit by a car. My parents didn't know I'd started seeing a therapist that semester. Things were rough, I just wanted my cat.
I used to play this game with her, once I noticed it worked. I'd look her straight in the eyeballs and will her not to look away until I looked away, and crazy thing that she was, she never did. I could hold her like that from across the room, indefinitely. She was strange and moody, like me really, not huge on being picked up, dragged around, excessively affectionate... unless it was on her terms, and then she'd demand all the attention you could muster.
Carly's cat, Aphrodite, was the more affectionate one. Man was that cat a little attention whore. She climb in everyone's laps, including my grandmother's, who hates cats, and press her face up under their chin. She would then proceed to pass out and take a thirty minute nap in your lap while you petted her and she purred. Unfortunately, she, too made it to the highway.
Before she died, she developed either a bladder or behavior problem. We aren't really sure which. But because of that, my parents have refused to get anymore cats. It never seems quite like home without a cat. It never seems quite like Christmas without a cat knocking off glass ornaments and smashing them against some corner somewhere, or chasing balls of wrapping paper around the room and gnawing on them. That gradually became my favorite part of Christmas, just watching the cats chase around wads of wrapping paper. Here we'd all blown ridiculous sums of money on buying gifts, and the part that interested the cats was our refuse. Our cats were always confused by Christmas. Suddenly the family room is a mess, plastic bags, tags everywhere, people coming and going. They'd come out for awhile to chase the wrapping paper balls and then slink back under the tree for a nap. We knew they were awake again when the tree would start to sway and we saw paws sticking out from the low branches, poking at some twirling figurine of Santa Claus. The cats made Christmas for me. I think I'll get another cat soon. :) <3
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Old Fat Bastard
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Was uber-lazy today until 5pm, when I finally changed out of my pajamas. I don't really know why I didn't do anything. I hate not doing anything. I watched a movie while having my morning coffee. John slept in 'til one, because to stay awake for last night's eclipse he drank a 20oz. coffee. Then I got online, and I don't really know what I did to piss the hours away. I did some of what wound up being therapeutic writing. Sometimes I write in apostrophe, and I'm not sure who I'm even addressing. Sometimes I know, but then it changes, and I make no distinction. I just ramble on. Today was the day I've been hoping not to have as far as break goes, that moment when things slow down so far there's really no motivation to do anything. I sat on the couch hungry and thirsty, stiff backed, needing to move, just writing and writing and writing. And I feel like I said nothing, just had word vomit. Anyway, I hate wasting the time but I suppose I needed to get that slow and let it happen. I hate going slow. Well, I don't hate going slow, but I hate totally stopping. The first time I got up and got dressed was to go to the gym tonight for a Zumba class at 6:40. I got to feeling better, moving around and working out. I had good energy and lifted after the class. I had to be fast, because they were getting ready to close. That made my arms extra tired trying to bust out one set after the other. Came home, sat in the new massaging computer chair John got me for Christmas, lol- I love it, but man he must think I'm a really old, fat bastard. I played my drum for awhile to reggae videos online, and John made us chicken and fried potatoes for dinner. That's been basically it.
Was uber-lazy today until 5pm, when I finally changed out of my pajamas. I don't really know why I didn't do anything. I hate not doing anything. I watched a movie while having my morning coffee. John slept in 'til one, because to stay awake for last night's eclipse he drank a 20oz. coffee. Then I got online, and I don't really know what I did to piss the hours away. I did some of what wound up being therapeutic writing. Sometimes I write in apostrophe, and I'm not sure who I'm even addressing. Sometimes I know, but then it changes, and I make no distinction. I just ramble on. Today was the day I've been hoping not to have as far as break goes, that moment when things slow down so far there's really no motivation to do anything. I sat on the couch hungry and thirsty, stiff backed, needing to move, just writing and writing and writing. And I feel like I said nothing, just had word vomit. Anyway, I hate wasting the time but I suppose I needed to get that slow and let it happen. I hate going slow. Well, I don't hate going slow, but I hate totally stopping. The first time I got up and got dressed was to go to the gym tonight for a Zumba class at 6:40. I got to feeling better, moving around and working out. I had good energy and lifted after the class. I had to be fast, because they were getting ready to close. That made my arms extra tired trying to bust out one set after the other. Came home, sat in the new massaging computer chair John got me for Christmas, lol- I love it, but man he must think I'm a really old, fat bastard. I played my drum for awhile to reggae videos online, and John made us chicken and fried potatoes for dinner. That's been basically it.
You are my sweetest downfall.
This song kills me, in a sweet way. Thought I'd share. Can't figure out how to post a video, but just follow the link.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p62rfWxs6a8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p62rfWxs6a8
Winter Solstice Lunar Eclipse
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
11:30am
John and I left home last night around midnight to go in search of a good spot from which to watch the winter solstice lunar eclipse. We went first up to Cheat Lake, which was so beautifully frozen, and pulled over alongside the road after crossing the old iron bridge. I guess it seemed impractical to run the gas out trying to stay warm, so we left that spot before the eclipse actually began and went to Brook Hall. We sat on the fifth floor overlooking all of Morgantown, so still at night over Christmas break. It was the perfect place to view the eclipse, no one really around but the janitorial staff. So we sat there, John drinking coffee, me eating honey bbq Frito twists. It was calm and beautiful, gave a chance to put everything into perspective of the big picture again.
An old woman was cleaning the stairwell around the corner. Her breathing scared me- she couldn't catch it. It was more labored breathing than I've known even after running six or seven miles. John told me he knew her, that she had emphysema. I wondered why she wasn't on disability.
"Now she sleeps in the valley where the wildflowers nod
and no one knows she loved him but herself and God."
...Just a song from Maureen's graduate recital that is stuck in my head. Something about the lyrics- that mix of devastation with beautiful imagery, and the music itself is heartbreaking. Also, Maureen sang it better than this chick, but I don't have a video of Maureen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDVcV_9am70&feature=related
11:30am
John and I left home last night around midnight to go in search of a good spot from which to watch the winter solstice lunar eclipse. We went first up to Cheat Lake, which was so beautifully frozen, and pulled over alongside the road after crossing the old iron bridge. I guess it seemed impractical to run the gas out trying to stay warm, so we left that spot before the eclipse actually began and went to Brook Hall. We sat on the fifth floor overlooking all of Morgantown, so still at night over Christmas break. It was the perfect place to view the eclipse, no one really around but the janitorial staff. So we sat there, John drinking coffee, me eating honey bbq Frito twists. It was calm and beautiful, gave a chance to put everything into perspective of the big picture again.
An old woman was cleaning the stairwell around the corner. Her breathing scared me- she couldn't catch it. It was more labored breathing than I've known even after running six or seven miles. John told me he knew her, that she had emphysema. I wondered why she wasn't on disability.
"Now she sleeps in the valley where the wildflowers nod
and no one knows she loved him but herself and God."
...Just a song from Maureen's graduate recital that is stuck in my head. Something about the lyrics- that mix of devastation with beautiful imagery, and the music itself is heartbreaking. Also, Maureen sang it better than this chick, but I don't have a video of Maureen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDVcV_9am70&feature=related
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Break, Day 2
Sunday, December 19, 2010
10:45pm
Just got back from seeing the new Narnia movie over at Carmike's with John, John, and Joe. I liked it, even if it is "thinly veiled Christian morality." Aslan always has good things to say, the things you want to hear. I like the line about learning to "know me by another name." I know within the context of the movie that means "Jesus," but even if the aim as at Christian absolutism, I think it's an insightful line. Another name... that's what we all have... different names for ourselves and different names for the same the same thing. And we are all the same thing trying to learn ourselves and the other beyond any nomenclature. And that brings me peace. Anyway...
Today was a slow sort of day. I got up and made french toast and bacon first thing for John and me. For a change, he got to sleep in while I made breakfast instead of the other way around. Afterwards, we did online Christmas shopping for awhile and then went to the Rec. John did elliptical as usual, and I put in an hour on a treadmill doing an interval workout. Did some abs as usual and external rotators as well.
Came home. Showered immediately to get the sweat off the tattoo which is all flaky and snake-like now. My whole upper back is still one massive rash from the latex reaction. It itches miserably. A healing tattoo will itch anyway, let alone when you go adding blistery allergic reactions. Rahhhh!!!
I read about fifty pages of Stranger in a Strange Land by Heinlein today. I've always wanted to read it and just haven't found the time. So far it has my attention. Extra-terrestrial life doesn't seem so far-fetched to me. It's good to have my brain on a different route for awhile with science fiction. I've been so absorbed in Spanish lately...
John and I did exchange lessons today, lol. He taught me an introductory physics lesson. It's something I've always wanted to learn. Then I taught him el cuerpo humano y la cara in Spanish. I was more into learning physics than he was in learning Spanish, I think, but he was a good sport. He seemed to enjoy explaining the physics, lol.
I practiced piano awhile. I'd like to get Moonlight Sonata fully playable, even if not clean, by the end of this coming semester. I have to set goals, or I'll just keep playing the same thing over and over again.
Then we were off to the movies, and that's been my day. I'm thinking some yoga or art before bed, and then we'll see what tomorrow brings.
10:45pm
Just got back from seeing the new Narnia movie over at Carmike's with John, John, and Joe. I liked it, even if it is "thinly veiled Christian morality." Aslan always has good things to say, the things you want to hear. I like the line about learning to "know me by another name." I know within the context of the movie that means "Jesus," but even if the aim as at Christian absolutism, I think it's an insightful line. Another name... that's what we all have... different names for ourselves and different names for the same the same thing. And we are all the same thing trying to learn ourselves and the other beyond any nomenclature. And that brings me peace. Anyway...
Today was a slow sort of day. I got up and made french toast and bacon first thing for John and me. For a change, he got to sleep in while I made breakfast instead of the other way around. Afterwards, we did online Christmas shopping for awhile and then went to the Rec. John did elliptical as usual, and I put in an hour on a treadmill doing an interval workout. Did some abs as usual and external rotators as well.
Came home. Showered immediately to get the sweat off the tattoo which is all flaky and snake-like now. My whole upper back is still one massive rash from the latex reaction. It itches miserably. A healing tattoo will itch anyway, let alone when you go adding blistery allergic reactions. Rahhhh!!!
I read about fifty pages of Stranger in a Strange Land by Heinlein today. I've always wanted to read it and just haven't found the time. So far it has my attention. Extra-terrestrial life doesn't seem so far-fetched to me. It's good to have my brain on a different route for awhile with science fiction. I've been so absorbed in Spanish lately...
John and I did exchange lessons today, lol. He taught me an introductory physics lesson. It's something I've always wanted to learn. Then I taught him el cuerpo humano y la cara in Spanish. I was more into learning physics than he was in learning Spanish, I think, but he was a good sport. He seemed to enjoy explaining the physics, lol.
I practiced piano awhile. I'd like to get Moonlight Sonata fully playable, even if not clean, by the end of this coming semester. I have to set goals, or I'll just keep playing the same thing over and over again.
Then we were off to the movies, and that's been my day. I'm thinking some yoga or art before bed, and then we'll see what tomorrow brings.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
First real day of break.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
11:43PM
This has felt like the first real day of break. John and I slept in 'til 10:30 and about an hour later went to IHOP for breakfast. You know what the worst part of going out to breakfast is? The caffeine headache you have to endure while getting ready to leave and then while waiting in public like a Zombie. Also, because I was so swollen this am from my latex allergic reaction incurred during the tattooing process, I took a Benadryl almost as soon as I woke up. Since it was only 25mg and I'd just slept nine hours, I figured I'd be fine. But I was about falling over in the booth at IHOP, and as soon as I got back home, I crawled into my bed and took a nap.
Later on, John and I went to the Rec. I did UB giant sets and 20 min on the elliptical. I felt like I was moving through liquid lead thanks to the Benadryl, but it was the first workout I'd done in four days and it felt good.
Came back here, showered, and started in cooking dinner while John cleaned things up. He's been begging for lasagna, so now that I have time, I made some. That and asparagus and zucchini. We ate and watched Zombie Land on TV. It was... bizarre. The line I'll take from that movie is, "Where are you, you spongy, yellow, delicious bastards? Where are you?"
Nothing more so far today. Trying to decide between yoga and piano here before bed. Not sure which yet. Then more benadryl to get this swelling down and nighty nite!
11:43PM
This has felt like the first real day of break. John and I slept in 'til 10:30 and about an hour later went to IHOP for breakfast. You know what the worst part of going out to breakfast is? The caffeine headache you have to endure while getting ready to leave and then while waiting in public like a Zombie. Also, because I was so swollen this am from my latex allergic reaction incurred during the tattooing process, I took a Benadryl almost as soon as I woke up. Since it was only 25mg and I'd just slept nine hours, I figured I'd be fine. But I was about falling over in the booth at IHOP, and as soon as I got back home, I crawled into my bed and took a nap.
Later on, John and I went to the Rec. I did UB giant sets and 20 min on the elliptical. I felt like I was moving through liquid lead thanks to the Benadryl, but it was the first workout I'd done in four days and it felt good.
Came back here, showered, and started in cooking dinner while John cleaned things up. He's been begging for lasagna, so now that I have time, I made some. That and asparagus and zucchini. We ate and watched Zombie Land on TV. It was... bizarre. The line I'll take from that movie is, "Where are you, you spongy, yellow, delicious bastards? Where are you?"
Nothing more so far today. Trying to decide between yoga and piano here before bed. Not sure which yet. Then more benadryl to get this swelling down and nighty nite!
Friday, December 17, 2010
A year and semester in review
Friday, December 17, 2010
9:06pm
I handed in my final grades today and submitted everything... quiet a process, took me about 17 hours in the last two days. For the first time during the semester, I was "al punto de lagrimas" over school stuff. But minus a few touch ups which will take about ten minutes, I am finished, and it feels... strange.
I know so many times in my mind I've felt tired but instead of slowing down, I've gone harder. Like on the treadmill at the gym. OK, so if I'm getting tired, my solution is not to just make it another ten minutes at this speed, but to crank it up five notches so I know I am capable of more. Exhaustion is a state of mind. That's true, but I am slowing down for a couple weeks. Getting into the slowness is strange for me.
Frequently, since adolescence really, I've had the image of myself at the bottom, like a tree trunk, and all my activities, responsibilities, obligations above my head. My job was to keep it all whirling, as quickly as possible, so it wouldn't fall and crash on me. I had been fascinated by centrifugal force since my dad took me on some ride that spins and the floor falls out, and everyone gets sucked back against the wall. Well, except me, I was too little to absorb as much of the force... I was three... so my dad had to keep hiking me up with his foot. But anyway... at some point everyone needs to slow down, and I intuitively feel that's what I most need to do for myself this break. It feels a little selfish... I should be... working, studying, teaching something... not sitting here waiting for tea to boil with no plans to go anywhere or accomplish anything. But somehow... it just feels imperative and I am given to following the whimsical inclinations of my soul. Always have been.
So to start my threeish weeks of reflectiveness, I thought I'd do a year/semester in review thing. The year has seen a lot of changes for me, and the semester has been rough to say the least.
I started the year off with a lot of changes in January. I was a recent graduate from WVU with a BA in English and Spanish. I remember not giving a rat's ass about graduation, but I welcomed the excuse to buy a new outfit and get dolled up and have my family take pictures of me. Moment of truth, I can be a little egotistical every now and then. You know, we always talk against any form of narcissism or egoism, but usually I think a loving family and group of friends tends to foster that. I'm not saying you have to be the absolute center of your own universe, and perceivably everyone else's, but if you're lucky enough to be surrounded in love, I think you also learn to love and appreciate yourself. Also, John and I were somewhat newly engaged... with a ring now, anyway. I was trying to adapt my mind to everyone's congratulatory enthusiasm. It overwhelmed me. Like in theatre, I always loved to put on the show, but hated being in the receiving line when people came out and kissed you and fussed over you. Wonderful, that natural boundary that the stage draws between you and the audience... Anyway, when I came back to Morgantown from break, I began working at Barnes and Noble and Panera, simultaneously. I was also writing for The Dominion Post and teaching about ten fitness classes a week. Eventually, I began to whittle things out of my schedule and eventually I was just working at BN and teaching fitness.
Working at Panera was about the most miserable experience I've ever had. Never had I hated a job more... and I've had probably more than 20 now. I had never been treated like such an object in all my life. I'm certainly willing to work hard for my employers, but when you spend eight hours a day somewhere and the people there don't even take the time to get to know you, it's hard to stick around. I've been fortunate in my other jobs to have been with at least some good people on the staff. Anyway, it gave me an appreciation for what a lot of people go through. I hope I never have to work there or somewhere like there again.
Barnes and Noble, by contrast, I enjoyed very much. The people there were warm, and everyone was unique and interesting to talk to. Everyone had something stimulating to say. Kate was one of the best people I've ever had the pleasure of working for. She was second only to Santina and Deanna, and that's because those two women took me so entirely under their wings and taught me from scratch everything I now know about the fitness industry. But Kate was fair, hardworking but not anal, and seemed to enjoy talking when things were slow. She was really just about my speed, and that goes a long way when it comes to being somewhere for a 6-8 hour shift.
I continued at Barnes and Noble through August, when I quit for GTA orientation. There was something wholesome and calming about knowing everyday that I would go to work, be stimulated, and still know that I could accomplish what I was doing. I wasn't making a lot of money, but I always knew I'd be able to pay the rent, the bills, buy the groceries. I was making it completely on my own for the first time, and it felt good, even if John and I were sharing an upstairs apartment in a duplex with my ex-boyfriend. I don't want to put too much emphasis on the ex-ness of it, because it's not like that really. Nonetheless, it was a little odd to me to be sharing a room with my fiance in just the next room over. Especially since the ex and I have always always always had some sharp-tonguedness between the two of us. It's one zinger after the other, and in some ways that's interesting and fun but in other ways it's like... please, I'm human, give me a break.
I guess I should mention, too, that I moved out of Terrace Heights in the spring of 2010. I lived there for four years, almost my entire under graduate career. I had various roommates and various roommate situations. By the end it was almost perfect. Carman, Katie, and I meshed pretty well, and I only wish we could have found that grouping much earlier. It was nice to live with two other driven young women who cared about their families, friends, fitness, and academics, and when I say cared, I mean... really cared. Like, it's not just something they would have written on their facebook profiles to sound cute.
So that makes three homes in 2010. Terrace, Pearl Avenue, and just before school started, John and I moved into a trailer here in St. Clair's Village, hence the title of this blog. I was hesitant to move here, because it meant letting my parents help us. They took out a loan for the trailer, and we pay the lot rent. The idea is they sell it back in the end and get their money back, so they don't lose much, if anything. And really, by the time we're ready to get out, John and I should be in a much better position to help with the cost of it. I almost refused, but I think I realized that Pearl Avenue, living with at least one person, and occasionally others because I couldn't have the end say in everything even though I wasn't totally cool with the vagabond attitude most times, just wasn't going to be conducive to my success in graduate school. And if I was going to give it a go, I wanted to really do it. And this place feels like home. Nowhere else has since I started school. Terrace Heights just started to after four years, but still not... not with the noisy neighbors who really weren't concerned in the least about anyone but themselves, not with the roommates who didn't care about your personal wellness... like I said, over the four years, there were a lot of people in and out of that place. It started to feel like home, but never quite. I guess, even here, it feels a little transient. I don't really plan to be here more than a couple years, but for now... it's nice to have "our" kitchen, "our" bedroom, "our" living room, and not have to conform to the way others are living. It's like Teresa said when we met up the other day, a lot of times, when you're living with someone other than family, people just don't care how they treat you. John and I care about each other and one another's wellness, so it's easy to be considerate of one another in the home environment. From October to late November, Jesse was here with us. She's been the only other person to ever stay here for any length of time.
So the semester... was rough. I am glad to let it go. Today when it was over, I nearly started weeping in the car. It's like everything I haven't had time to deal with came up all at once... now that I have time. Like when people get sick after their adrenaline slows down following a period of stress... they get sick when they can. I get reflective... when I can, although in the moment, I'm usually fairly able to push on through and get done with whatever is at hand. I can, for the most part, order my emotions to take a time out, to wait for me to deal with them later. By about Week 6, I already knew I needed a new semester. I'd been home a couple times already for emergency situations, both with my grandmother and John's family. It was getting me down emotionally as well as behind academically. Having those external stressors also made it more difficult for me to interact with my own peers. Not only did I have the language barrier, but my mind was just soooooo not on heading out to the bar (even though I did every opportunity I got). I was still mentally in my grandmother's hospital room, in the car making that dreadful trip to check on John's family. Sometimes there's a lot I can't really talk about, and that gets heavy to drag around. I sometimes just want to rid myself of it, put it out there, walk away. But it affects others, too, and so I don't. Also, on the few occasions I have shared some of the stuff I'm sort of talking around right now, I just get these looks like omfg... seriously? And well, yeah. For real. These things happen. It's much less rare than you may think, so don't look at me like that. Anyway. Keeping my mouth shut gets to be an effort. I made a couple trips home for Jesse this semester, too, and while I'm glad to do that, I could feel myself falling back to where I was the second semester of my freshman year. Just so much death and heaviness to deal with all at once, and here I've already been through so much change-- moving in with the new fiance, giving up my fitness gigs, taking on a position as a Spanish teacher. I've always been someone to have several irons in the fire, and suddenly I'd taken them all out but one. That's scary, because then that one really has to work out.
I remember, before the semester was getting started, I'd made a plan to run a 10K. I'd never run that far, at least not competitively before. It was a completely arbitrary goal, of course. I'm not on a team. I didn't have anyone coming to see me race. It wasn't for any Susan G. Komen something or other. I remember being really insistent on putting in the correct distance and time for training and John being perplexed and perhaps even a little miffed about it. He asked why it was so important, and I said that I just really needed to be able to work towards something I knew I could accomplish, since I was getting ready to go into something I had no idea whether I could do or not. He said OK, and was supportive. He came to my race, took pictures, and the thing I remember most about crossing the finish line was his very proud voice cheering for me. I made it through my first 10K, Vomit Hill and all, and I made it through my first semester of graduate school, too.
So... academically... it's been, an interesting semester. I wasn't too into taking bibliography or teaching methods, but they turned out to be my better classes. Honestly, methodology for me, was just one of those easily attainable courses for me for bumping my grade... at least I hope so. Perhaps I speak preemptively. But there's something calming about a course that basically just involves reading, understanding, and regurgitating. Those sorts of classes were always fine for me. Biby was tough. I read Gone with the Wind for the first time this semester, and to look back at the time I put into those 954 pages makes the semester seem much longer after all. I enjoyed the book; it was good to spend time reading again, even though that meant pushing myself to sit there longer than I wanted to a lot of times. Tania es una profesora muy "exigente" como dicimos en el departamento. I had her last year and strongly disliked her. I hated the interpretive presentation assignment; it seemed elementary and impertinent, and because my groupmates had issues going on at the time, it threatened to bring my whole grade down. Anyway, I like her much more at the graduate level. She seemed to like my final paper. I got a 30/30, don't think I've ever been handed a paper back with a perfect score before. Of course, I don't think the paper was perfect. I have my own criticisms that I'd have worked with given more time. However, coming from her, I was happy with it. It was nice to do a paper on my own topic, to compare two characters from two novels, to revisit an old favorite with a critical new eye. But I digress into extreme nerdishness here. I thought Span 493 would be a lot more interesting, but I really disliked the course. I don't dislike the professor, but the formatting was off for me. I think there are better ways to learn culture than to read hundreds of pages in articles each week only to sit through classmates' presentations. I have no idea how the grading is going to go in there, and while I'm slightly worried, I'm hoping for the best. I'll be satisfied with a B. As long as it's not a C. Can't have C's in graduate school.
Teaching Spanish was a new experience. It was intimidating at first, not because they're close to my age, not because I had to be in front of people, but because I'm a West Virginia girl, too. What impetus do any of them have for trusting my authority on a language I'm still struggling to control and comprehend? I made mistakes every day. I'm a generally dingy person. I'll look at page "53" and say "page 82." So I tell them to open their books to the wrong pages, tell them to do the wrong activities... all that. I don't think it makes me a bad teacher, but they had to get used to me being like that. I don't know how not to be like that to be honest. After all this time, still in my fitness classes I'll say OK, let's do 16 tricep dips on the left side now and then proceed to do 16 bicep curls on the right side... I found that I purposely put a distance between myself and the students in the beginning... the safety of the stage's edge that used to keep me safe from the audience. I was fine singing and dancing in front of them on stage like that, although in an informal, social setting I never would. It was similar with teaching. I could perform just fine, as long as I had some distance. So in the beginning I dressed better. I was a lot more conscientious with trying to maintain a more formal atmosphere in the class. After about six weeks, once I saw that they were going to do what I asked and weren't going to eat me, I relaxed that. And I have to say... I don't believe I'll ever be someone who can maintain professionalism for any length of time. I heard some students the other day discussing whether they'd studied for the listening exam. I just wanted to look at them stupidly and say, "How the hell do you study for a listening exam?" I think I generally do forget about rules and roles a lot, in ways that I've noticed through time can make people a little uncomfortable at times, so I sometimes go overboard in trying to maintain them. I get to the balance eventually, though.
I don't know what I think about teaching Spanish 101 still. In some ways I liked it. I won't say it was rewarding necessarily... it was just rudimentary grammar. 101 students don't have a love for the language yet, and I'd say I was still so nervous about getting it all right with teaching, that I wasn't really in a place to inspire too much love for the language yet. I have one student I'm particularly happy with, who pulled off a B+ after trying really really hard. She wasn't one of those kids who walks in knowing 4 years of high school Spanish, thinking they're all that, so they coast and just get a B+ or A-. This girl really didn't know any Spanish whatsoever, struggled, and did it. That made me happy. There was this other kid, too, who blew me out of the water during the oral interview. The kid can't read or write in the language to save his life. But somehow he opens his mouth and out pours this perfect fluency. He is my opposite. I can read and write, but I can't speak well. I'll admit, frequently I just felt annoyed with students. I don't understand not getting an A in a 101 course. All it takes is attending class, completing the assignments, studying for a minimal amount of time. I don't see the difficulty. So when I'd have students sitting their looking mystified and miserable, I just wanted to shake them and shout, "Do the homework! Study your vocab list! Don't sit there thinking I can't I can't I can't because that takes all your damn energy!" I did have a temper in the classroom a few times. I'm sure that speaks to my discredit, but it's also part of who I am. When I get irritated, I don't always have a chance to hear my words in my head before I'm already hearing them out loud. Overall, I liked the majority of my students. I had mostly B's, several A's, a few C's, and only one D and one F. And I think I grade pretty fairly... I don't give points away. So they've done fairly well.
Well, and I got a tattoo in 2010. I know I wrote about that previously, but this is my year-end review. It's an Aum symbol with a cross touching water on the side that opens like a 3. I love my tattoo, and I'm glad to have it there on my skin, speaking for me. I think people get a little baffled with me, sometimes. People have come to me and said that this person or that person is confused about my spirituality... hello, why not ask me instead of tell someone else?... I can see where it would be confusing. A little girl brought up half Catholic and half Penecostal tears off one weekend from college to go to a convent. She thinks seriously about becoming a nun and goes on discernment retreats. She continues doing yoga and meditation, taking religious studies courses and suddenly leaves religion at the doorstep. I think people in my life take me as non-religious, which for some seems to be synonymous with non-spiritual. I was spiritual before I was religious. As a kid, I talked to God and even thought I heard his voice one morning after a particularly real nightmare, before anyone told me who or what God was. Religion was what came in the middle. I'm undecided whether I think Christianity is "right" or not, though I have to say my leaning is to the contrary. Nonetheless, the way I felt about Christ when I was into religion, really shaped who I am. I would weep as I carried the cross through stations at Lent. There was something about that willingness toward sacrifice, toward laying it all down for the sake of love. I understood that. Christianity, and Catholicism more specifically, touched the waters of my life and spirituality, so I have a small cross touching water on my back. There are three ripples- Father, Son, Holy Ghost.... mind, body, spirt... past, present, future... threes are important to me. I got the Aum, because to me that represents connection. Yoga was more important to me in my later years of high school, when I believe I had a special spiritual journey with my great grandmother and needed guidance through that from somewhere because there wasn't even a real way to ask for it from the people in my life. I don't believe they'd have known what it was I was trying to ask. I don't believe I was supposed to ask. I believe I knew what I was supposed to do and did it. But it was sort of private and so again, sort of secret, hard to take with me everywhere because it was so deep inside myself but so essential to my life in those times. It was strange to sit at Baristas with friends and... not talk about it. Now, to me, it represents a more embracing spirituality. To me, yoga is more for everyone. Anyone can walk in and experience their own divinity on their mat. And, I don't do yoga so much anymore mostly because I can't tolerate that quietude and aloneness for any extended period of time anymore (though I intend to try to get back to that over break) the symbol still signifies a spiritual connectedness to me, which for me is how I operate. I move on impulse sometimes, but only when that impulse comes from beyond. And I believe it does. I may not be in a convent, but I still live a life based on discernment. I want to know what I should do, not just for myself but for those I'm sharing this planet with. I feel souls sometimes, and this is my way of representing that and my overall spiritual journey, which to me is the single most important thing about my life to date... on my skin. I may not be good with words and discussing things with people sometimes, because I feel it gets me looked at a little weird, but I can have it on my skin.
2010 has been trying. It's been about changing and growing, persevering and thriving. I have my Meow, and he's an Excel wizard. He makes the coffee and pretends to be Donkey Kong. My grandma is constantly going, but for now I have her and the rest of my family and life is good. Thanks to ALL who have shared this year with me.
9:06pm
I handed in my final grades today and submitted everything... quiet a process, took me about 17 hours in the last two days. For the first time during the semester, I was "al punto de lagrimas" over school stuff. But minus a few touch ups which will take about ten minutes, I am finished, and it feels... strange.
I know so many times in my mind I've felt tired but instead of slowing down, I've gone harder. Like on the treadmill at the gym. OK, so if I'm getting tired, my solution is not to just make it another ten minutes at this speed, but to crank it up five notches so I know I am capable of more. Exhaustion is a state of mind. That's true, but I am slowing down for a couple weeks. Getting into the slowness is strange for me.
Frequently, since adolescence really, I've had the image of myself at the bottom, like a tree trunk, and all my activities, responsibilities, obligations above my head. My job was to keep it all whirling, as quickly as possible, so it wouldn't fall and crash on me. I had been fascinated by centrifugal force since my dad took me on some ride that spins and the floor falls out, and everyone gets sucked back against the wall. Well, except me, I was too little to absorb as much of the force... I was three... so my dad had to keep hiking me up with his foot. But anyway... at some point everyone needs to slow down, and I intuitively feel that's what I most need to do for myself this break. It feels a little selfish... I should be... working, studying, teaching something... not sitting here waiting for tea to boil with no plans to go anywhere or accomplish anything. But somehow... it just feels imperative and I am given to following the whimsical inclinations of my soul. Always have been.
So to start my threeish weeks of reflectiveness, I thought I'd do a year/semester in review thing. The year has seen a lot of changes for me, and the semester has been rough to say the least.
I started the year off with a lot of changes in January. I was a recent graduate from WVU with a BA in English and Spanish. I remember not giving a rat's ass about graduation, but I welcomed the excuse to buy a new outfit and get dolled up and have my family take pictures of me. Moment of truth, I can be a little egotistical every now and then. You know, we always talk against any form of narcissism or egoism, but usually I think a loving family and group of friends tends to foster that. I'm not saying you have to be the absolute center of your own universe, and perceivably everyone else's, but if you're lucky enough to be surrounded in love, I think you also learn to love and appreciate yourself. Also, John and I were somewhat newly engaged... with a ring now, anyway. I was trying to adapt my mind to everyone's congratulatory enthusiasm. It overwhelmed me. Like in theatre, I always loved to put on the show, but hated being in the receiving line when people came out and kissed you and fussed over you. Wonderful, that natural boundary that the stage draws between you and the audience... Anyway, when I came back to Morgantown from break, I began working at Barnes and Noble and Panera, simultaneously. I was also writing for The Dominion Post and teaching about ten fitness classes a week. Eventually, I began to whittle things out of my schedule and eventually I was just working at BN and teaching fitness.
Working at Panera was about the most miserable experience I've ever had. Never had I hated a job more... and I've had probably more than 20 now. I had never been treated like such an object in all my life. I'm certainly willing to work hard for my employers, but when you spend eight hours a day somewhere and the people there don't even take the time to get to know you, it's hard to stick around. I've been fortunate in my other jobs to have been with at least some good people on the staff. Anyway, it gave me an appreciation for what a lot of people go through. I hope I never have to work there or somewhere like there again.
Barnes and Noble, by contrast, I enjoyed very much. The people there were warm, and everyone was unique and interesting to talk to. Everyone had something stimulating to say. Kate was one of the best people I've ever had the pleasure of working for. She was second only to Santina and Deanna, and that's because those two women took me so entirely under their wings and taught me from scratch everything I now know about the fitness industry. But Kate was fair, hardworking but not anal, and seemed to enjoy talking when things were slow. She was really just about my speed, and that goes a long way when it comes to being somewhere for a 6-8 hour shift.
I continued at Barnes and Noble through August, when I quit for GTA orientation. There was something wholesome and calming about knowing everyday that I would go to work, be stimulated, and still know that I could accomplish what I was doing. I wasn't making a lot of money, but I always knew I'd be able to pay the rent, the bills, buy the groceries. I was making it completely on my own for the first time, and it felt good, even if John and I were sharing an upstairs apartment in a duplex with my ex-boyfriend. I don't want to put too much emphasis on the ex-ness of it, because it's not like that really. Nonetheless, it was a little odd to me to be sharing a room with my fiance in just the next room over. Especially since the ex and I have always always always had some sharp-tonguedness between the two of us. It's one zinger after the other, and in some ways that's interesting and fun but in other ways it's like... please, I'm human, give me a break.
I guess I should mention, too, that I moved out of Terrace Heights in the spring of 2010. I lived there for four years, almost my entire under graduate career. I had various roommates and various roommate situations. By the end it was almost perfect. Carman, Katie, and I meshed pretty well, and I only wish we could have found that grouping much earlier. It was nice to live with two other driven young women who cared about their families, friends, fitness, and academics, and when I say cared, I mean... really cared. Like, it's not just something they would have written on their facebook profiles to sound cute.
So that makes three homes in 2010. Terrace, Pearl Avenue, and just before school started, John and I moved into a trailer here in St. Clair's Village, hence the title of this blog. I was hesitant to move here, because it meant letting my parents help us. They took out a loan for the trailer, and we pay the lot rent. The idea is they sell it back in the end and get their money back, so they don't lose much, if anything. And really, by the time we're ready to get out, John and I should be in a much better position to help with the cost of it. I almost refused, but I think I realized that Pearl Avenue, living with at least one person, and occasionally others because I couldn't have the end say in everything even though I wasn't totally cool with the vagabond attitude most times, just wasn't going to be conducive to my success in graduate school. And if I was going to give it a go, I wanted to really do it. And this place feels like home. Nowhere else has since I started school. Terrace Heights just started to after four years, but still not... not with the noisy neighbors who really weren't concerned in the least about anyone but themselves, not with the roommates who didn't care about your personal wellness... like I said, over the four years, there were a lot of people in and out of that place. It started to feel like home, but never quite. I guess, even here, it feels a little transient. I don't really plan to be here more than a couple years, but for now... it's nice to have "our" kitchen, "our" bedroom, "our" living room, and not have to conform to the way others are living. It's like Teresa said when we met up the other day, a lot of times, when you're living with someone other than family, people just don't care how they treat you. John and I care about each other and one another's wellness, so it's easy to be considerate of one another in the home environment. From October to late November, Jesse was here with us. She's been the only other person to ever stay here for any length of time.
So the semester... was rough. I am glad to let it go. Today when it was over, I nearly started weeping in the car. It's like everything I haven't had time to deal with came up all at once... now that I have time. Like when people get sick after their adrenaline slows down following a period of stress... they get sick when they can. I get reflective... when I can, although in the moment, I'm usually fairly able to push on through and get done with whatever is at hand. I can, for the most part, order my emotions to take a time out, to wait for me to deal with them later. By about Week 6, I already knew I needed a new semester. I'd been home a couple times already for emergency situations, both with my grandmother and John's family. It was getting me down emotionally as well as behind academically. Having those external stressors also made it more difficult for me to interact with my own peers. Not only did I have the language barrier, but my mind was just soooooo not on heading out to the bar (even though I did every opportunity I got). I was still mentally in my grandmother's hospital room, in the car making that dreadful trip to check on John's family. Sometimes there's a lot I can't really talk about, and that gets heavy to drag around. I sometimes just want to rid myself of it, put it out there, walk away. But it affects others, too, and so I don't. Also, on the few occasions I have shared some of the stuff I'm sort of talking around right now, I just get these looks like omfg... seriously? And well, yeah. For real. These things happen. It's much less rare than you may think, so don't look at me like that. Anyway. Keeping my mouth shut gets to be an effort. I made a couple trips home for Jesse this semester, too, and while I'm glad to do that, I could feel myself falling back to where I was the second semester of my freshman year. Just so much death and heaviness to deal with all at once, and here I've already been through so much change-- moving in with the new fiance, giving up my fitness gigs, taking on a position as a Spanish teacher. I've always been someone to have several irons in the fire, and suddenly I'd taken them all out but one. That's scary, because then that one really has to work out.
I remember, before the semester was getting started, I'd made a plan to run a 10K. I'd never run that far, at least not competitively before. It was a completely arbitrary goal, of course. I'm not on a team. I didn't have anyone coming to see me race. It wasn't for any Susan G. Komen something or other. I remember being really insistent on putting in the correct distance and time for training and John being perplexed and perhaps even a little miffed about it. He asked why it was so important, and I said that I just really needed to be able to work towards something I knew I could accomplish, since I was getting ready to go into something I had no idea whether I could do or not. He said OK, and was supportive. He came to my race, took pictures, and the thing I remember most about crossing the finish line was his very proud voice cheering for me. I made it through my first 10K, Vomit Hill and all, and I made it through my first semester of graduate school, too.
So... academically... it's been, an interesting semester. I wasn't too into taking bibliography or teaching methods, but they turned out to be my better classes. Honestly, methodology for me, was just one of those easily attainable courses for me for bumping my grade... at least I hope so. Perhaps I speak preemptively. But there's something calming about a course that basically just involves reading, understanding, and regurgitating. Those sorts of classes were always fine for me. Biby was tough. I read Gone with the Wind for the first time this semester, and to look back at the time I put into those 954 pages makes the semester seem much longer after all. I enjoyed the book; it was good to spend time reading again, even though that meant pushing myself to sit there longer than I wanted to a lot of times. Tania es una profesora muy "exigente" como dicimos en el departamento. I had her last year and strongly disliked her. I hated the interpretive presentation assignment; it seemed elementary and impertinent, and because my groupmates had issues going on at the time, it threatened to bring my whole grade down. Anyway, I like her much more at the graduate level. She seemed to like my final paper. I got a 30/30, don't think I've ever been handed a paper back with a perfect score before. Of course, I don't think the paper was perfect. I have my own criticisms that I'd have worked with given more time. However, coming from her, I was happy with it. It was nice to do a paper on my own topic, to compare two characters from two novels, to revisit an old favorite with a critical new eye. But I digress into extreme nerdishness here. I thought Span 493 would be a lot more interesting, but I really disliked the course. I don't dislike the professor, but the formatting was off for me. I think there are better ways to learn culture than to read hundreds of pages in articles each week only to sit through classmates' presentations. I have no idea how the grading is going to go in there, and while I'm slightly worried, I'm hoping for the best. I'll be satisfied with a B. As long as it's not a C. Can't have C's in graduate school.
Teaching Spanish was a new experience. It was intimidating at first, not because they're close to my age, not because I had to be in front of people, but because I'm a West Virginia girl, too. What impetus do any of them have for trusting my authority on a language I'm still struggling to control and comprehend? I made mistakes every day. I'm a generally dingy person. I'll look at page "53" and say "page 82." So I tell them to open their books to the wrong pages, tell them to do the wrong activities... all that. I don't think it makes me a bad teacher, but they had to get used to me being like that. I don't know how not to be like that to be honest. After all this time, still in my fitness classes I'll say OK, let's do 16 tricep dips on the left side now and then proceed to do 16 bicep curls on the right side... I found that I purposely put a distance between myself and the students in the beginning... the safety of the stage's edge that used to keep me safe from the audience. I was fine singing and dancing in front of them on stage like that, although in an informal, social setting I never would. It was similar with teaching. I could perform just fine, as long as I had some distance. So in the beginning I dressed better. I was a lot more conscientious with trying to maintain a more formal atmosphere in the class. After about six weeks, once I saw that they were going to do what I asked and weren't going to eat me, I relaxed that. And I have to say... I don't believe I'll ever be someone who can maintain professionalism for any length of time. I heard some students the other day discussing whether they'd studied for the listening exam. I just wanted to look at them stupidly and say, "How the hell do you study for a listening exam?" I think I generally do forget about rules and roles a lot, in ways that I've noticed through time can make people a little uncomfortable at times, so I sometimes go overboard in trying to maintain them. I get to the balance eventually, though.
I don't know what I think about teaching Spanish 101 still. In some ways I liked it. I won't say it was rewarding necessarily... it was just rudimentary grammar. 101 students don't have a love for the language yet, and I'd say I was still so nervous about getting it all right with teaching, that I wasn't really in a place to inspire too much love for the language yet. I have one student I'm particularly happy with, who pulled off a B+ after trying really really hard. She wasn't one of those kids who walks in knowing 4 years of high school Spanish, thinking they're all that, so they coast and just get a B+ or A-. This girl really didn't know any Spanish whatsoever, struggled, and did it. That made me happy. There was this other kid, too, who blew me out of the water during the oral interview. The kid can't read or write in the language to save his life. But somehow he opens his mouth and out pours this perfect fluency. He is my opposite. I can read and write, but I can't speak well. I'll admit, frequently I just felt annoyed with students. I don't understand not getting an A in a 101 course. All it takes is attending class, completing the assignments, studying for a minimal amount of time. I don't see the difficulty. So when I'd have students sitting their looking mystified and miserable, I just wanted to shake them and shout, "Do the homework! Study your vocab list! Don't sit there thinking I can't I can't I can't because that takes all your damn energy!" I did have a temper in the classroom a few times. I'm sure that speaks to my discredit, but it's also part of who I am. When I get irritated, I don't always have a chance to hear my words in my head before I'm already hearing them out loud. Overall, I liked the majority of my students. I had mostly B's, several A's, a few C's, and only one D and one F. And I think I grade pretty fairly... I don't give points away. So they've done fairly well.
Well, and I got a tattoo in 2010. I know I wrote about that previously, but this is my year-end review. It's an Aum symbol with a cross touching water on the side that opens like a 3. I love my tattoo, and I'm glad to have it there on my skin, speaking for me. I think people get a little baffled with me, sometimes. People have come to me and said that this person or that person is confused about my spirituality... hello, why not ask me instead of tell someone else?... I can see where it would be confusing. A little girl brought up half Catholic and half Penecostal tears off one weekend from college to go to a convent. She thinks seriously about becoming a nun and goes on discernment retreats. She continues doing yoga and meditation, taking religious studies courses and suddenly leaves religion at the doorstep. I think people in my life take me as non-religious, which for some seems to be synonymous with non-spiritual. I was spiritual before I was religious. As a kid, I talked to God and even thought I heard his voice one morning after a particularly real nightmare, before anyone told me who or what God was. Religion was what came in the middle. I'm undecided whether I think Christianity is "right" or not, though I have to say my leaning is to the contrary. Nonetheless, the way I felt about Christ when I was into religion, really shaped who I am. I would weep as I carried the cross through stations at Lent. There was something about that willingness toward sacrifice, toward laying it all down for the sake of love. I understood that. Christianity, and Catholicism more specifically, touched the waters of my life and spirituality, so I have a small cross touching water on my back. There are three ripples- Father, Son, Holy Ghost.... mind, body, spirt... past, present, future... threes are important to me. I got the Aum, because to me that represents connection. Yoga was more important to me in my later years of high school, when I believe I had a special spiritual journey with my great grandmother and needed guidance through that from somewhere because there wasn't even a real way to ask for it from the people in my life. I don't believe they'd have known what it was I was trying to ask. I don't believe I was supposed to ask. I believe I knew what I was supposed to do and did it. But it was sort of private and so again, sort of secret, hard to take with me everywhere because it was so deep inside myself but so essential to my life in those times. It was strange to sit at Baristas with friends and... not talk about it. Now, to me, it represents a more embracing spirituality. To me, yoga is more for everyone. Anyone can walk in and experience their own divinity on their mat. And, I don't do yoga so much anymore mostly because I can't tolerate that quietude and aloneness for any extended period of time anymore (though I intend to try to get back to that over break) the symbol still signifies a spiritual connectedness to me, which for me is how I operate. I move on impulse sometimes, but only when that impulse comes from beyond. And I believe it does. I may not be in a convent, but I still live a life based on discernment. I want to know what I should do, not just for myself but for those I'm sharing this planet with. I feel souls sometimes, and this is my way of representing that and my overall spiritual journey, which to me is the single most important thing about my life to date... on my skin. I may not be good with words and discussing things with people sometimes, because I feel it gets me looked at a little weird, but I can have it on my skin.
2010 has been trying. It's been about changing and growing, persevering and thriving. I have my Meow, and he's an Excel wizard. He makes the coffee and pretends to be Donkey Kong. My grandma is constantly going, but for now I have her and the rest of my family and life is good. Thanks to ALL who have shared this year with me.
Almost there
Friday, December 17, 2010
7:56AM
Waking up here with a little coffee, getting ready to meet John downtown. He's going to help me use the Excel spreadsheet to get my students' final grades entered. I should probably take some time to relearn how to use Excel from scratch so these things don't seem so complicated to me.
Yesterday/last night from 4pm-1am I spent here on this futon grading final exams, both written and listening. I got them all written down in my grade book, and now it's just basically entering stuff.
The semester's almost finished.
7:56AM
Waking up here with a little coffee, getting ready to meet John downtown. He's going to help me use the Excel spreadsheet to get my students' final grades entered. I should probably take some time to relearn how to use Excel from scratch so these things don't seem so complicated to me.
Yesterday/last night from 4pm-1am I spent here on this futon grading final exams, both written and listening. I got them all written down in my grade book, and now it's just basically entering stuff.
The semester's almost finished.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
I lean and loaf and invite my soul.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
11:44PM
Today: appointment, tattoo, meeting, 101 exam.
I started my day off feeling crampy and then heading downtown for my appointment. One of those times when I wasn't really sure why I was there, but whatever.
Came home. John and I drove to Point Marion with Jim so he could get his car, which was at the Honda dealership there having work done.
John and I stopped at McDonald's back in town for lunch and then went down to Thinkin' Ink. My experience there was a lot more positive than at Patty's Artspot. The guy let me lie down and didn't have to pretend to be a total bad ass the entire time, which I appreciated. Also, expecting the pain was helpful. My right hand and arm are a mess though from where I clawed myself to deal with the pain... I know... how does causing more pain to oneself help to deal with the pain at hand? Well, it's like this... if I meet the pain being inflicted on me externally and then increase it, that puts me back in control. It's odd. Anyway, the whole thinking about that got really cathartic and I started crying. I know people cry when they get tattoos sometimes, but mine was a sad cry, not a this-hurts cry. It just sort of got me to thinking about the times people have made me feel like crap and so I've pushed just a little harder, little further, faster, stronger to meet it and defeat it. That just... made me sad. Anyway, it's over now, and my tattoo looks a lot better. I'm glad I got it finished by someone who was willing to work with me instead of against me.
Came home, tired from the pain and emotional trip, took a brief nap, and then John drove me down to Chitwood and dropped me off. I was still in a fog, so I had some tea with me. It was a meeting to get the finals distributed to us and to explain the grading process... I have to have everything done by Friday at noon, apparently, so that should be intense. I was thinking I had until Monday. But I'm glad, because now I'll push to get it finished and actually get to be done.
Went to BN between the meeting and the exam with Maria, Diana, Nacho, y Abbie para tomar algunos cafes. Yo compre un te.
The exam wasn't too bad. I had a student come in an hour late. Everyone was pretty much finishing up at that point, so it wasn't really fair. I told her she could have until the last person who'd arrived on time was finished. (This isn't the first issue.)
After the exam, John picked me up outside in front of Colson. We had a simple dinner- I had a pizza lunchable, he had a tuna sandwich, both with juice and bagged salad. Well, it's time for us to veg out.
That's something I'm really going to try hard to do over this break. My goal is sort of an anti-goal. For the past... seven years I have been going a million miles an hour, constantly. I have had no time to catch up to myself, appreciate where I'm at, just constantly... trying to catch up, and it's never enough. So, I'm not teaching fitness or working at Barnes and Noble over break. I'm just going to hang out and try to filter. Sounds relaxing, but for me that's also work and a little nerve-wracking. But I'm going to stick to it and see if I don't emerge a little more balanced after the holidays.
I want to do my art, my music, read, write, exercise, do yoga, all on my own time and no one else's. I want to "lean and loaf and invite my soul."
11:44PM
Today: appointment, tattoo, meeting, 101 exam.
I started my day off feeling crampy and then heading downtown for my appointment. One of those times when I wasn't really sure why I was there, but whatever.
Came home. John and I drove to Point Marion with Jim so he could get his car, which was at the Honda dealership there having work done.
John and I stopped at McDonald's back in town for lunch and then went down to Thinkin' Ink. My experience there was a lot more positive than at Patty's Artspot. The guy let me lie down and didn't have to pretend to be a total bad ass the entire time, which I appreciated. Also, expecting the pain was helpful. My right hand and arm are a mess though from where I clawed myself to deal with the pain... I know... how does causing more pain to oneself help to deal with the pain at hand? Well, it's like this... if I meet the pain being inflicted on me externally and then increase it, that puts me back in control. It's odd. Anyway, the whole thinking about that got really cathartic and I started crying. I know people cry when they get tattoos sometimes, but mine was a sad cry, not a this-hurts cry. It just sort of got me to thinking about the times people have made me feel like crap and so I've pushed just a little harder, little further, faster, stronger to meet it and defeat it. That just... made me sad. Anyway, it's over now, and my tattoo looks a lot better. I'm glad I got it finished by someone who was willing to work with me instead of against me.
Came home, tired from the pain and emotional trip, took a brief nap, and then John drove me down to Chitwood and dropped me off. I was still in a fog, so I had some tea with me. It was a meeting to get the finals distributed to us and to explain the grading process... I have to have everything done by Friday at noon, apparently, so that should be intense. I was thinking I had until Monday. But I'm glad, because now I'll push to get it finished and actually get to be done.
Went to BN between the meeting and the exam with Maria, Diana, Nacho, y Abbie para tomar algunos cafes. Yo compre un te.
The exam wasn't too bad. I had a student come in an hour late. Everyone was pretty much finishing up at that point, so it wasn't really fair. I told her she could have until the last person who'd arrived on time was finished. (This isn't the first issue.)
After the exam, John picked me up outside in front of Colson. We had a simple dinner- I had a pizza lunchable, he had a tuna sandwich, both with juice and bagged salad. Well, it's time for us to veg out.
That's something I'm really going to try hard to do over this break. My goal is sort of an anti-goal. For the past... seven years I have been going a million miles an hour, constantly. I have had no time to catch up to myself, appreciate where I'm at, just constantly... trying to catch up, and it's never enough. So, I'm not teaching fitness or working at Barnes and Noble over break. I'm just going to hang out and try to filter. Sounds relaxing, but for me that's also work and a little nerve-wracking. But I'm going to stick to it and see if I don't emerge a little more balanced after the holidays.
I want to do my art, my music, read, write, exercise, do yoga, all on my own time and no one else's. I want to "lean and loaf and invite my soul."
Beanery, Teresa, Brew Pub
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
9:12 AM
Currently sitting here in pajamas watching "The Jeffersons" on TV Land, having a coffee, and trying to get woke up before heading down for my appointment at 11. My plan was to get up and exercise this morning, but enter cramps, and forget it. Want to save some of my misery tolerance for the day for when I go to get my tattoo filled in. *Scared. At least this time I know it hurts and am ready for it.
On Monday I turned in my last two papers for the semester. All that remains now is to have my meeting today at 5, proctor the 101 exam from 7-9, grade stuff, and submit grades. My goal is to get that all done tomorrow so that I can just be finished, even though it isn't necessarily due until Monday.
Yesterday wound up being nothing I expected but a good day. It started with the mandatory training of next semester's 101 TA's. Dr. Amores just let us know about this recently; I thought it was kind of rough to throw that right in the middle of finals week. I was finished, but lots of people aren't yet. The presenter was late and then didn't seem to know quite what was going on with what he was presenting. Time got fairly wasted, and of course not all the accounts were working properly, mine being one of them, so I couldn't even participate or really learn anything.
Oh well, the whole thing took a lot longer than I expected, but they treated us to lunch at Boston and Beanery afterward. I shared a booth with Ignacio and Diana, and we just sort of passed the time talking and eating. I enjoyed it.
I met with Teresa in the Mountain Lair a little before 3 to just catch up. We haven't seen each other much during the semester, but then, she has a boyfriend now and we're both up to our necks in our master's programs. Well, not her anymore. She graduated. :)
Once John and I got home, I got ready and went up to Wal-mart to get a haircut. The girl I like wasn't there, so I walked out, but then I thought... well, I came all the way up here, I'd kinda just like to get this done. So I gave another new girl a chance... they seem to not be able to maintain their staff there... and she did an excellent job. I actually love my hair right now.
Speaking of hair, on Monday, I decided to recolor my hair, same color, just to touch up the roots and brighten it. I was nervous to do it myself, and John had me convinced he'd be able to do it.
You can guess how that went, not because he's a guy, but because he'd never even witnessed someone getting their hair colored before. So I took over and finished it, and it turned out just fine.
That same night, about 12:30, we got a phone call about Krysta having been in a car accident involving ambulances and firetrucks. So ten minutes later... if that... we were both in my car and on our way home. We got to Star City when his parents called to say it wasn't that bad after all, and we didn't need to come home.
Next morning, yesterday, I was in the shower, and John comes in to tell me that it was more serious than they'd let on, that they just didn't want us trying to drive home. There were still no serious injuries, but she did flip her car over a hill several times, and wound up four teeth knocked out and a pretty banged up leg. I find it odd... both siblings, different years, flipping their cars all the way over that bank on Route 2, climbing out, and crawling up the hill... that doesn't happen. People don't walk out of those kind of accidents, let alone with no sorts of major injuries whatsoever. How does it happen to two siblings, same time of year... couple weeks before Christmas... and both of them are fine? Eerie.
John and I picked up John Tudek and went down to Brew Pub to meet Jim, Tiffany, and some other geologists. Tudek and I were playing darts. He can play. I still can't. I just enjoy throwing something sharp with the force of a major league pitcher. Apparently, this is a bad idea. I threw one so hard and missed the dartboard, that it broke in half against a brick wall, making sparks as it skidded against the bricks. Anyway, I had a good time. They're crazy, and they enjoy crazy, and that's good for me.
OK, lots to do today- appointment, tattoo, meeting, exam. Can't wait til item #2 is over.
9:12 AM
Currently sitting here in pajamas watching "The Jeffersons" on TV Land, having a coffee, and trying to get woke up before heading down for my appointment at 11. My plan was to get up and exercise this morning, but enter cramps, and forget it. Want to save some of my misery tolerance for the day for when I go to get my tattoo filled in. *Scared. At least this time I know it hurts and am ready for it.
On Monday I turned in my last two papers for the semester. All that remains now is to have my meeting today at 5, proctor the 101 exam from 7-9, grade stuff, and submit grades. My goal is to get that all done tomorrow so that I can just be finished, even though it isn't necessarily due until Monday.
Yesterday wound up being nothing I expected but a good day. It started with the mandatory training of next semester's 101 TA's. Dr. Amores just let us know about this recently; I thought it was kind of rough to throw that right in the middle of finals week. I was finished, but lots of people aren't yet. The presenter was late and then didn't seem to know quite what was going on with what he was presenting. Time got fairly wasted, and of course not all the accounts were working properly, mine being one of them, so I couldn't even participate or really learn anything.
Oh well, the whole thing took a lot longer than I expected, but they treated us to lunch at Boston and Beanery afterward. I shared a booth with Ignacio and Diana, and we just sort of passed the time talking and eating. I enjoyed it.
I met with Teresa in the Mountain Lair a little before 3 to just catch up. We haven't seen each other much during the semester, but then, she has a boyfriend now and we're both up to our necks in our master's programs. Well, not her anymore. She graduated. :)
Once John and I got home, I got ready and went up to Wal-mart to get a haircut. The girl I like wasn't there, so I walked out, but then I thought... well, I came all the way up here, I'd kinda just like to get this done. So I gave another new girl a chance... they seem to not be able to maintain their staff there... and she did an excellent job. I actually love my hair right now.
Speaking of hair, on Monday, I decided to recolor my hair, same color, just to touch up the roots and brighten it. I was nervous to do it myself, and John had me convinced he'd be able to do it.
You can guess how that went, not because he's a guy, but because he'd never even witnessed someone getting their hair colored before. So I took over and finished it, and it turned out just fine.
That same night, about 12:30, we got a phone call about Krysta having been in a car accident involving ambulances and firetrucks. So ten minutes later... if that... we were both in my car and on our way home. We got to Star City when his parents called to say it wasn't that bad after all, and we didn't need to come home.
Next morning, yesterday, I was in the shower, and John comes in to tell me that it was more serious than they'd let on, that they just didn't want us trying to drive home. There were still no serious injuries, but she did flip her car over a hill several times, and wound up four teeth knocked out and a pretty banged up leg. I find it odd... both siblings, different years, flipping their cars all the way over that bank on Route 2, climbing out, and crawling up the hill... that doesn't happen. People don't walk out of those kind of accidents, let alone with no sorts of major injuries whatsoever. How does it happen to two siblings, same time of year... couple weeks before Christmas... and both of them are fine? Eerie.
John and I picked up John Tudek and went down to Brew Pub to meet Jim, Tiffany, and some other geologists. Tudek and I were playing darts. He can play. I still can't. I just enjoy throwing something sharp with the force of a major league pitcher. Apparently, this is a bad idea. I threw one so hard and missed the dartboard, that it broke in half against a brick wall, making sparks as it skidded against the bricks. Anyway, I had a good time. They're crazy, and they enjoy crazy, and that's good for me.
OK, lots to do today- appointment, tattoo, meeting, exam. Can't wait til item #2 is over.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
quote from the movie im watching
"I love you. I love you, I don't want that, because I love you turns into you failed me, and I don't want to be on the other side of that." -The Soloist
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Boots, Opera, and Grand Pianos
Sunday, December 12, 2010
1:06am
I can't believe I'm still awake. It's been a long day, but I knew every day this weekend through Monday were going to be long days. I got up early and got started back on the process of writing. I didn't make quite the headway I would have liked as I was battling a monstrous headache and nausea. Eventually, I had to just lie down and take a nap. I felt pretty rough all the way up through about 5pm, when I finally decided to quit for the day, got a shower, and got ready to go to Maureen's recital.
John and I went up to the plaza before the recital, and I got a few pairs of boots at the Shoe Department. They were really cheap, and I liked them. I got out with three pairs of boots and three pairs of pantyhose for under $75.00. One pair I got for Carly for Christmas; they're really cute.
So then we went to the CAC for Maureen's recital. I saw David and Kate come in after us, but I didn't quite get the opportunity to say hello before everyone left. :/ While they were setting up, there was a grand piano on set, which made me a little sad. Oh well, that's life, and you just keep going. There was a song she sang tonight, and poignantly and defiantly at that, about a refusal to mourn. And I refuse to mourn. I've got other things to do. I honestly think this was my first real-life exposure to opera save for the excerpt from Carmina Burana I helped do back up for like way back in the 6th or 7th grade. It was also my first time seeing a harpsichord. I enjoyed the whole experience, just being around something artistic again.
After the recital, we went to Wal-mart to get some groceries. Came back, paid the cable bill, ate some beefaroni ('cause I'm a grown-up you know) with salad, had a cup of chai, and wrote another page on my final paper while watching an episode of "Wipe Swap." Doesn't sound like a whole lot to do in one day, but these papers are taking an enormous amount of my time.
Anyway, time for bed so I can get up and do more writing... and the joyful experience of editing... tomorrow. Good night, all.
1:06am
I can't believe I'm still awake. It's been a long day, but I knew every day this weekend through Monday were going to be long days. I got up early and got started back on the process of writing. I didn't make quite the headway I would have liked as I was battling a monstrous headache and nausea. Eventually, I had to just lie down and take a nap. I felt pretty rough all the way up through about 5pm, when I finally decided to quit for the day, got a shower, and got ready to go to Maureen's recital.
John and I went up to the plaza before the recital, and I got a few pairs of boots at the Shoe Department. They were really cheap, and I liked them. I got out with three pairs of boots and three pairs of pantyhose for under $75.00. One pair I got for Carly for Christmas; they're really cute.
So then we went to the CAC for Maureen's recital. I saw David and Kate come in after us, but I didn't quite get the opportunity to say hello before everyone left. :/ While they were setting up, there was a grand piano on set, which made me a little sad. Oh well, that's life, and you just keep going. There was a song she sang tonight, and poignantly and defiantly at that, about a refusal to mourn. And I refuse to mourn. I've got other things to do. I honestly think this was my first real-life exposure to opera save for the excerpt from Carmina Burana I helped do back up for like way back in the 6th or 7th grade. It was also my first time seeing a harpsichord. I enjoyed the whole experience, just being around something artistic again.
After the recital, we went to Wal-mart to get some groceries. Came back, paid the cable bill, ate some beefaroni ('cause I'm a grown-up you know) with salad, had a cup of chai, and wrote another page on my final paper while watching an episode of "Wipe Swap." Doesn't sound like a whole lot to do in one day, but these papers are taking an enormous amount of my time.
Anyway, time for bed so I can get up and do more writing... and the joyful experience of editing... tomorrow. Good night, all.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Casie hates shopping.
Friday, December 10, 2010
11:35pm
This morning I "slept in" until 9:00, got up, had coffee, and got to work on my Spanish paper by 9:30. I worked on it pretty steadily until noon, when it was completed. That's not to say it's finished; some editing needs to happen, but it is a complete paper now. After writing, I went to the Rec. I find that I become extra dedicated to fitness during finals week, because all the sitting around in a state of hyper-concentration really creates a need in me to go and unleash some physical energy. I did giant sets for upper body, abs... always abs, squats, and this thing with dumbbells where you step up on a bench with one leg and lift the opposite leg behind you for glutes. That all took a little over half an hour. Came home, ate, worked on laundry, showered, and realized John was home. He came home early today with a migraine. So I gave him a hot rag for his face and got him some medicine before going into the living room to start working on my paper for Tania, which I haven't touched in about four days since I've given priority to my paper for Tuninetti. Working on her paper involved revising my introduction so far and not much else. Went to Joe's Happy Hour class at Healthworks and worked out for another hour. Came home, changed clothes, and then went with John to meet Joe, his dad, and stepmom for dinner. It was nice to meet them; they seem like really nice people. Joe ordered shark, so I tasted that for the first time tonight. After dinner, John and I were going to go grocery shopping, but then I remembered he'd told me Old Navy was having a buy one get one free sweater sale, and since my arms have gotten large enough that I can no longer jam them into my sleeves, I really needed to buy some. You know, growth doesn't bother me. It's the need to spend time, effort and money seeking new clothing that drives me nuts. I also tried to buy some new pants while there to complete an outfit. For years, like... 5.... I wore the same size at Old Navy. 0. That was it. I could buy them almost without trying them on. Then I got older, started taking birth control, got more serious about lifting... and due to a variety of factors began to put on some weight, actually, not weight so much as just general size. I think I've gained a solid seven pounds throughout college, and that's not enough to bump me up two pants sizes. However, I cannot squash my thighs into most of my pants anymore. Sometimes, if there's really nothing else clean, I do have to resort to wearing my old clothes. John helps me get into them by grabbing the waist of the pants, pulling so hard as to lift me off the ground, and bouncing me in the air a few times until gravity takes over and I fall into them by force. >:( So I went to the size 2 and didn't mind. Tonight I tried on a size 2, could barely zip them, and knew that as soon as I washed them that would be the end of that. Erggg... of course, there was no size 4. The 6 fit my thighs but was baggy in the butt and all around my calves. I got in a really bad mood. Anyway, I wound up buying three sweaters and a button up. I need all new button ups now, too, as once I button myself in... if I'm driving, I feel like the back's gonna rip off and like I can't move my arms to steer the damn car. >:( Again, I realllllyyyy don't mind my new, larger size. I'm even happy with it. I just don't have all the time, money, or inclination to take on the task of replacing this. Shopping for me is not fun. I don't like it. I think it's stupid. It makes my back hurt, drains my energy, and it makes my hair all staticky and greasy from taking so many tops on and off. Anyway, after Old Navy we went to Target. I wanted to get a pair of boots so that I could at least wear my new tops. I am totally not a materialistic person. As an example, I wear three rings, ever and always... my engagement ring, an Irish ring I FOUND IN THE STREET one day, and a cross ring that some bizarre and lovely girl at church once insisted I take by shoving it on my finger. But all I have are summer shoes, and I can't very well wear them at this time of year. So I wanted some boots. Well, Target didn't have any, and I was in just such a mood that that tripped my trigger. John found me, we left, and I began crying in the car. I always feel like I look like a jackass. I was happy with my new tops and figured boots would be easy to find, so when they weren't, I sort of lost my mind a little bit. It's just... every long-sleeved top I've worn this year has been too small. I was looking forward to wearing something that fit. I know some girls like shopping, but to those men out there who think we all love it... I think it's more accurate to say we spend so much time not because we like it... we just want to look like assholes. I wish we all just wore ripped jeans and flannels all the time. Erg...
Anyway. I hate shopping. That's established. I do have some new tops, though, and I'm glad. I will find the shoes eventually. (Speaking of shoes... do you know I would prefer to wear my men's Timberline boots every day during the winter? They are sturdy, so I don't worry about slipping in ice. After five years, they're still waterproof... no snow problems. Why is it unacceptable for me to wear those? Why should I wear boots with dangerous little heels on them instead? I think I should change my major and join the geology department... they dress more sensibly.)
Anyway, it's getting late. I want to see if I can finish revising my introduction and maybe get another page in for Tania before I go to sleep. Erg. Erg. Erg. (And I'm not talking about indoor rowing.)
11:35pm
This morning I "slept in" until 9:00, got up, had coffee, and got to work on my Spanish paper by 9:30. I worked on it pretty steadily until noon, when it was completed. That's not to say it's finished; some editing needs to happen, but it is a complete paper now. After writing, I went to the Rec. I find that I become extra dedicated to fitness during finals week, because all the sitting around in a state of hyper-concentration really creates a need in me to go and unleash some physical energy. I did giant sets for upper body, abs... always abs, squats, and this thing with dumbbells where you step up on a bench with one leg and lift the opposite leg behind you for glutes. That all took a little over half an hour. Came home, ate, worked on laundry, showered, and realized John was home. He came home early today with a migraine. So I gave him a hot rag for his face and got him some medicine before going into the living room to start working on my paper for Tania, which I haven't touched in about four days since I've given priority to my paper for Tuninetti. Working on her paper involved revising my introduction so far and not much else. Went to Joe's Happy Hour class at Healthworks and worked out for another hour. Came home, changed clothes, and then went with John to meet Joe, his dad, and stepmom for dinner. It was nice to meet them; they seem like really nice people. Joe ordered shark, so I tasted that for the first time tonight. After dinner, John and I were going to go grocery shopping, but then I remembered he'd told me Old Navy was having a buy one get one free sweater sale, and since my arms have gotten large enough that I can no longer jam them into my sleeves, I really needed to buy some. You know, growth doesn't bother me. It's the need to spend time, effort and money seeking new clothing that drives me nuts. I also tried to buy some new pants while there to complete an outfit. For years, like... 5.... I wore the same size at Old Navy. 0. That was it. I could buy them almost without trying them on. Then I got older, started taking birth control, got more serious about lifting... and due to a variety of factors began to put on some weight, actually, not weight so much as just general size. I think I've gained a solid seven pounds throughout college, and that's not enough to bump me up two pants sizes. However, I cannot squash my thighs into most of my pants anymore. Sometimes, if there's really nothing else clean, I do have to resort to wearing my old clothes. John helps me get into them by grabbing the waist of the pants, pulling so hard as to lift me off the ground, and bouncing me in the air a few times until gravity takes over and I fall into them by force. >:( So I went to the size 2 and didn't mind. Tonight I tried on a size 2, could barely zip them, and knew that as soon as I washed them that would be the end of that. Erggg... of course, there was no size 4. The 6 fit my thighs but was baggy in the butt and all around my calves. I got in a really bad mood. Anyway, I wound up buying three sweaters and a button up. I need all new button ups now, too, as once I button myself in... if I'm driving, I feel like the back's gonna rip off and like I can't move my arms to steer the damn car. >:( Again, I realllllyyyy don't mind my new, larger size. I'm even happy with it. I just don't have all the time, money, or inclination to take on the task of replacing this. Shopping for me is not fun. I don't like it. I think it's stupid. It makes my back hurt, drains my energy, and it makes my hair all staticky and greasy from taking so many tops on and off. Anyway, after Old Navy we went to Target. I wanted to get a pair of boots so that I could at least wear my new tops. I am totally not a materialistic person. As an example, I wear three rings, ever and always... my engagement ring, an Irish ring I FOUND IN THE STREET one day, and a cross ring that some bizarre and lovely girl at church once insisted I take by shoving it on my finger. But all I have are summer shoes, and I can't very well wear them at this time of year. So I wanted some boots. Well, Target didn't have any, and I was in just such a mood that that tripped my trigger. John found me, we left, and I began crying in the car. I always feel like I look like a jackass. I was happy with my new tops and figured boots would be easy to find, so when they weren't, I sort of lost my mind a little bit. It's just... every long-sleeved top I've worn this year has been too small. I was looking forward to wearing something that fit. I know some girls like shopping, but to those men out there who think we all love it... I think it's more accurate to say we spend so much time not because we like it... we just want to look like assholes. I wish we all just wore ripped jeans and flannels all the time. Erg...
Anyway. I hate shopping. That's established. I do have some new tops, though, and I'm glad. I will find the shoes eventually. (Speaking of shoes... do you know I would prefer to wear my men's Timberline boots every day during the winter? They are sturdy, so I don't worry about slipping in ice. After five years, they're still waterproof... no snow problems. Why is it unacceptable for me to wear those? Why should I wear boots with dangerous little heels on them instead? I think I should change my major and join the geology department... they dress more sensibly.)
Anyway, it's getting late. I want to see if I can finish revising my introduction and maybe get another page in for Tania before I go to sleep. Erg. Erg. Erg. (And I'm not talking about indoor rowing.)
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Getting there!
Thursday, December 9, 2010
10:44pm
It's been a stressful/busy week, and I have another four days straight of that. I am, however, able to see the light at the end.
Yesterday was a real set back. I woke up, checked my email, noticed I had somethin, g from Juan, and realized it was his paper. I read it for him in an attempt to help edit, well not really edit, because there's no way I am qualified to edit a paper in Spanish, but offer suggestions pertaining to content. Through my reading, I realized, or thought I realized, that something I was writing about was completely inaccurate. To make a long, confusing story short, I wound up changing my presentation completely around, only to have Juan point out to me that I was right in the first place for a very obvious reason. I think if I hadn't been feeling so panicked all week I would not have made such a stupid error. Anyway, it's over now, I'm done with all presentations for the year, done with my 101 class except for their final exams and entering grades, and I'm on page 10 of my final paper for Tuninetti. I have more ground to cover on my paper for Tania, but at least for that one, I can write in English and I already know what I want to say.
I'm having an appletini at the moment. I love these things.
John and I went to the Rec together tonight, which was nice. I like having someone to go with sometimes. We did 20 minutes on bikes and another 20 on elliptical, plus about five minutes of abs. Nothing extreme, but sufficient.
There's nothing else going on- I was on campus for over nine hours today including classes I had to attend, office hours, and the exams I had to give. I've also worked on editing a paper for a classmate today; being a native English speaker sometimes has its uses, and spent the evening working on my paper for Tuninetti. I cannot wait to put this semester behind me. :)
Buenas noches. Salud.
10:44pm
It's been a stressful/busy week, and I have another four days straight of that. I am, however, able to see the light at the end.
Yesterday was a real set back. I woke up, checked my email, noticed I had somethin, g from Juan, and realized it was his paper. I read it for him in an attempt to help edit, well not really edit, because there's no way I am qualified to edit a paper in Spanish, but offer suggestions pertaining to content. Through my reading, I realized, or thought I realized, that something I was writing about was completely inaccurate. To make a long, confusing story short, I wound up changing my presentation completely around, only to have Juan point out to me that I was right in the first place for a very obvious reason. I think if I hadn't been feeling so panicked all week I would not have made such a stupid error. Anyway, it's over now, I'm done with all presentations for the year, done with my 101 class except for their final exams and entering grades, and I'm on page 10 of my final paper for Tuninetti. I have more ground to cover on my paper for Tania, but at least for that one, I can write in English and I already know what I want to say.
I'm having an appletini at the moment. I love these things.
John and I went to the Rec together tonight, which was nice. I like having someone to go with sometimes. We did 20 minutes on bikes and another 20 on elliptical, plus about five minutes of abs. Nothing extreme, but sufficient.
There's nothing else going on- I was on campus for over nine hours today including classes I had to attend, office hours, and the exams I had to give. I've also worked on editing a paper for a classmate today; being a native English speaker sometimes has its uses, and spent the evening working on my paper for Tuninetti. I cannot wait to put this semester behind me. :)
Buenas noches. Salud.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
End in Sight
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
1:54pm
I'm sitting in the office, just relaxing for a few minutes before going to give the rest of these oral interviews to my students. 10% of their grade is based on their ability to carry on a conversation with me in Spanish... in five minutes. I started them on Thursday, but of course, given the option, everyone wanted to go at the later time. So today, everyone is back to back to back. Hope I don't mentally check out before everyone has finished.
So far, today has been a good day, and much more productive than I'd even hoped for. I put my final presentation together for Tuninetti's class in the half hour after Maria's class and then in the first hour of Tuninetti's. I know I shouldn't have done that, but my ideas started rolling after Maria's class, and I just wanted to have one more thing crossed off this monstrous to-do list. It isn't like I'm going to retain anything from these brief summaries and overviews anyway. I have no context, and I'm still struggling to understand rapid-fire Spanish. Anyway, that was on the to-do list for tomorrow, and now it's done. :)
Also, here during my office hours, I put in a good hour and fifteen minutes on my final paper for Tuninetti. I'd planned to get a little over a page done in an hour, putting me to page 5.5. As it went, I got three pages done. Granted, some of it is song lyrics for context which I still need to translate into Spanish. Still, it's nice to see the pages filling up and watching it get put together. It's not this over halfway incomplete assignment anymore, and that feels good. Another positive, I found someone from my BIBY class who also has Tuninetti's class w/me. In BIBY our papers are in English. In Tuninetti's, they're in Spanish. We're going to edit/proof for each other. Also, one of my classmates casually asked Tuninetti for an extension on our papers, and he granted it... incredibly easily. So I still plan to have it finished by Friday, but this way, I can swap papers with Diana and get some feedback. I'll take whatever help or little points and pointers here and there that I can get. So glad to see this semester wrapping up. I need a fresh start!
In teaching methodology today, we went over our previously completed teaching activities... things we had to create to be used in classes and present them to each other. I really don't like doing that. I understand the purpose, and it even does help me. But I've always been that way, even with fitness instruction. I don't care to discuss the methods with others. I just want to read my book, apply the stuff and be done with it. Also, my activity got selected to be presented to the class, and I frankly had very little to say. The little explanatory things never occur to me, not when I know or assume that everyone already gets it anyway. I wish she'd just let us sleep in on Thursday morning since there's nothing we have to do for that class anymore, no grades remaining... we took our final before Thanksgiving... guess I shouldn't complain, at least it's no longer a stressor. It could be worse.
Surprisingly, though, I'm not as miserably stressed as I figured I'd be right now. I've stuck to my schedule yesterday and today, and I'm getting things done. It helps me to have it all written down, because it looks concrete, it's something I can cross off in pieces, something I can get done, and that's pretty great. I can't wait to be done!!!
1:54pm
I'm sitting in the office, just relaxing for a few minutes before going to give the rest of these oral interviews to my students. 10% of their grade is based on their ability to carry on a conversation with me in Spanish... in five minutes. I started them on Thursday, but of course, given the option, everyone wanted to go at the later time. So today, everyone is back to back to back. Hope I don't mentally check out before everyone has finished.
So far, today has been a good day, and much more productive than I'd even hoped for. I put my final presentation together for Tuninetti's class in the half hour after Maria's class and then in the first hour of Tuninetti's. I know I shouldn't have done that, but my ideas started rolling after Maria's class, and I just wanted to have one more thing crossed off this monstrous to-do list. It isn't like I'm going to retain anything from these brief summaries and overviews anyway. I have no context, and I'm still struggling to understand rapid-fire Spanish. Anyway, that was on the to-do list for tomorrow, and now it's done. :)
Also, here during my office hours, I put in a good hour and fifteen minutes on my final paper for Tuninetti. I'd planned to get a little over a page done in an hour, putting me to page 5.5. As it went, I got three pages done. Granted, some of it is song lyrics for context which I still need to translate into Spanish. Still, it's nice to see the pages filling up and watching it get put together. It's not this over halfway incomplete assignment anymore, and that feels good. Another positive, I found someone from my BIBY class who also has Tuninetti's class w/me. In BIBY our papers are in English. In Tuninetti's, they're in Spanish. We're going to edit/proof for each other. Also, one of my classmates casually asked Tuninetti for an extension on our papers, and he granted it... incredibly easily. So I still plan to have it finished by Friday, but this way, I can swap papers with Diana and get some feedback. I'll take whatever help or little points and pointers here and there that I can get. So glad to see this semester wrapping up. I need a fresh start!
In teaching methodology today, we went over our previously completed teaching activities... things we had to create to be used in classes and present them to each other. I really don't like doing that. I understand the purpose, and it even does help me. But I've always been that way, even with fitness instruction. I don't care to discuss the methods with others. I just want to read my book, apply the stuff and be done with it. Also, my activity got selected to be presented to the class, and I frankly had very little to say. The little explanatory things never occur to me, not when I know or assume that everyone already gets it anyway. I wish she'd just let us sleep in on Thursday morning since there's nothing we have to do for that class anymore, no grades remaining... we took our final before Thanksgiving... guess I shouldn't complain, at least it's no longer a stressor. It could be worse.
Surprisingly, though, I'm not as miserably stressed as I figured I'd be right now. I've stuck to my schedule yesterday and today, and I'm getting things done. It helps me to have it all written down, because it looks concrete, it's something I can cross off in pieces, something I can get done, and that's pretty great. I can't wait to be done!!!
Monday, December 6, 2010
Going out of me
Monday, December 6, 2010
10:43pm
I'm sitting in bed. John's lying down beside me, presumably setting his phone alarm for the morning. I've got that corny new age relaxation music I always listen to playing on my Pandora, and you popped into my head. I wish there was a way to make you understand how much I care about you, why that makes it hard to stay exposed to you when it ends in injury. Mostly, I want you to know I care. I'll love you even when you can't feel it, even when you can't see it, even when you think what it really is is hatred. I can't change your perception, all I can do is continue being in the world in my own way, and I feel it going out of me. Perhaps it reaches you. You're thinking I hate you; I want only to heal. It's Advent, and while I'm not practicing any religion anymore, I still think about light coming into the world, helping that light come. I need you to know I wish the same light and love in your life. I wish there was a switch on your back, like there is on my wall, that I could just flip and illuminate you from the inside.
Anyway...
I've been fluctuating between states of panic and excitement, panic about not getting things done well or on time, excitement about finishing this very stressful semester and having the opportunity to rest and start over. I gave my presentation in Tania's class today, and I think it went well. I swear, people look at me like I'm insane when I give my presentations. I suppose I was ranting and raving a little. Ah well, that's what I do.
Today I taught Zumba. I wish so much that I'd have had the time to bring them some new choreography before Christmas, but my priorities are as follow: 1. Friends and Family, 2. School, 3. My fitness classes. I did get some very old ones going again, though, so perhaps they seemed new to my ladies. They make me smile inside and out, out on a frigid, snowy Monday morning, dancing freely and really putting it out there for the sake of the workout. They are strong and beautiful, and they inspire me.
After Zumba, I came home, showered, ate my body weight in food, and finished typing what I wanted to say in my presentation. I then proceeded to read it to out loud to myself in the mirror for practice. I re-watched a movie for the paper I'm writing for Tuninetti, and that was actual work. The movie isn't much fun to watch, and I had to be super-attentive in order to take notes. Practiced my presentation again and then wrote out a very detailed schedule for myself for the next five days in order to be able to get everything done when it needs to be done. I then brainstormed a few pages for my paper for Tuninetti. I believe it was yesterday, perhaps the day before, but I came to the realization that I need to revise my entire thesis and therefore entire paper. Yick. Went to BIBY, presented and listened to presentations. Most of them were actually really interesting. Our instructor should have good papers to read at the very least.
Came home, showered immediately to warm up and basically just wash the day off me before returning myself to working on my paper for Tuninetti. John made stir fry from some frozen dinner kit, which, considering we're both up to our necks in end-of-semester grad school stuff and it did have vegetables in it... I'll take it. I was good; I sat and wrote on my paper for a little less than two hours, but I still wrote more than I expected to in that amount of time. So perhaps by the end of all this I'll have more time for revision than I thought. That would be good, but mostly I just want this semester to be finished.
Instead of pushing beyond my goal once I'd met it, I came in here, turned on soft music and did yoga. Well, I relaxed and stretched. There was no pushing myself through any series of intricate or beautiful poses tonight, just preparing the mind and body for sleep, and allowing myself that moment to acknowledge my self for doing what she did today so that she can do it again tomorrow... and the next day, and the next day.
I hope you all find some time to pay tribute to your selves this day, as well. Blessings.
10:43pm
I'm sitting in bed. John's lying down beside me, presumably setting his phone alarm for the morning. I've got that corny new age relaxation music I always listen to playing on my Pandora, and you popped into my head. I wish there was a way to make you understand how much I care about you, why that makes it hard to stay exposed to you when it ends in injury. Mostly, I want you to know I care. I'll love you even when you can't feel it, even when you can't see it, even when you think what it really is is hatred. I can't change your perception, all I can do is continue being in the world in my own way, and I feel it going out of me. Perhaps it reaches you. You're thinking I hate you; I want only to heal. It's Advent, and while I'm not practicing any religion anymore, I still think about light coming into the world, helping that light come. I need you to know I wish the same light and love in your life. I wish there was a switch on your back, like there is on my wall, that I could just flip and illuminate you from the inside.
Anyway...
I've been fluctuating between states of panic and excitement, panic about not getting things done well or on time, excitement about finishing this very stressful semester and having the opportunity to rest and start over. I gave my presentation in Tania's class today, and I think it went well. I swear, people look at me like I'm insane when I give my presentations. I suppose I was ranting and raving a little. Ah well, that's what I do.
Today I taught Zumba. I wish so much that I'd have had the time to bring them some new choreography before Christmas, but my priorities are as follow: 1. Friends and Family, 2. School, 3. My fitness classes. I did get some very old ones going again, though, so perhaps they seemed new to my ladies. They make me smile inside and out, out on a frigid, snowy Monday morning, dancing freely and really putting it out there for the sake of the workout. They are strong and beautiful, and they inspire me.
After Zumba, I came home, showered, ate my body weight in food, and finished typing what I wanted to say in my presentation. I then proceeded to read it to out loud to myself in the mirror for practice. I re-watched a movie for the paper I'm writing for Tuninetti, and that was actual work. The movie isn't much fun to watch, and I had to be super-attentive in order to take notes. Practiced my presentation again and then wrote out a very detailed schedule for myself for the next five days in order to be able to get everything done when it needs to be done. I then brainstormed a few pages for my paper for Tuninetti. I believe it was yesterday, perhaps the day before, but I came to the realization that I need to revise my entire thesis and therefore entire paper. Yick. Went to BIBY, presented and listened to presentations. Most of them were actually really interesting. Our instructor should have good papers to read at the very least.
Came home, showered immediately to warm up and basically just wash the day off me before returning myself to working on my paper for Tuninetti. John made stir fry from some frozen dinner kit, which, considering we're both up to our necks in end-of-semester grad school stuff and it did have vegetables in it... I'll take it. I was good; I sat and wrote on my paper for a little less than two hours, but I still wrote more than I expected to in that amount of time. So perhaps by the end of all this I'll have more time for revision than I thought. That would be good, but mostly I just want this semester to be finished.
Instead of pushing beyond my goal once I'd met it, I came in here, turned on soft music and did yoga. Well, I relaxed and stretched. There was no pushing myself through any series of intricate or beautiful poses tonight, just preparing the mind and body for sleep, and allowing myself that moment to acknowledge my self for doing what she did today so that she can do it again tomorrow... and the next day, and the next day.
I hope you all find some time to pay tribute to your selves this day, as well. Blessings.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Attempt at Maintaining Life the Weekend before Dead Week
Saturday, December 4, 2010
11:11am
I'm rewatching Gilda right now, since I'm going to start on a paper that includes information about it later this afternoon. I'll probably need to rewatch The Gang's All Here, too. I don't generally write on cinema, and I thought this would be an interesting challenge for me. Well, it's certainly a challenge. It's downright frustrating.
John's running around cleaning as I watch this. I didn't sleep well last night. His snoring woke me up four times.
Last night I went to the Rec Center after a day of solid school work and a records keeping meeting. I wasn't sure if I should go, as I continuously feel I'm coming down with a cold. But I've started take Zicam again, and so far that seems to be helping me. I did giant sets and put in a pretty hard, quick run on the treadmill. A girl in the department happened to be there and mentioned heading down to Sidelines for the birthday party. So I gave her my number, and I met up with her and several others down there. I had a couple beers and danced some, nothing major, but it was fun. I even sang karaoke with some girls.
Two nights ago I went to dinner with Maureen up at Chili's. That was nice; I don't really get the opportunity that frequently to see people back from Barnes and Noble, and Maureen's a fun girl. I should go to the baby shower for Jacklyn and Andrew today, but I feel that with game day traffic and all that, I would get stuck and never get back here to do my homework. So I'll just finish watching this movie, go swim some laps, come back here, and return to researching, reading and writing- wheeeee!!!
11:11am
I'm rewatching Gilda right now, since I'm going to start on a paper that includes information about it later this afternoon. I'll probably need to rewatch The Gang's All Here, too. I don't generally write on cinema, and I thought this would be an interesting challenge for me. Well, it's certainly a challenge. It's downright frustrating.
John's running around cleaning as I watch this. I didn't sleep well last night. His snoring woke me up four times.
Last night I went to the Rec Center after a day of solid school work and a records keeping meeting. I wasn't sure if I should go, as I continuously feel I'm coming down with a cold. But I've started take Zicam again, and so far that seems to be helping me. I did giant sets and put in a pretty hard, quick run on the treadmill. A girl in the department happened to be there and mentioned heading down to Sidelines for the birthday party. So I gave her my number, and I met up with her and several others down there. I had a couple beers and danced some, nothing major, but it was fun. I even sang karaoke with some girls.
Two nights ago I went to dinner with Maureen up at Chili's. That was nice; I don't really get the opportunity that frequently to see people back from Barnes and Noble, and Maureen's a fun girl. I should go to the baby shower for Jacklyn and Andrew today, but I feel that with game day traffic and all that, I would get stuck and never get back here to do my homework. So I'll just finish watching this movie, go swim some laps, come back here, and return to researching, reading and writing- wheeeee!!!
Friday, December 3, 2010
My Way of Having Advent
Friday, December 3, 2010
7:50am
"O Come O Come Emmanuel" is playing from Youtube on my computer right now. I woke up with a cold, so I'm not moving incredibly fast. I lay back down, decided to read some news on BBC. Space plane, tax cuts, Venezuelan flooding. It's easy to be oblivious, and sometimes I purposely turn a blind eye to what's going on out there. It's strange to me, though, to think that I could not know until this morning what's happened to the people of Venezuela. Used to be, I'd read the news and know what I needed to pray for. Now I don't pray so much. I find it impossible and ludicrous (for me, personally, no judgment on those of you who are devout, praying people) to try to address a consciousness so much greater than my own. What I do, instead, is just try to unite mind to that larger one, and if there's something that I previously would have outright prayed for, now I just hold it in mind. So, this is my way of having Advent this morning. Listening to my favorite Advent song, and holding the people of Venezuela in mind as i try to connect my mind to a higher one. Peace and blessings.
7:50am
"O Come O Come Emmanuel" is playing from Youtube on my computer right now. I woke up with a cold, so I'm not moving incredibly fast. I lay back down, decided to read some news on BBC. Space plane, tax cuts, Venezuelan flooding. It's easy to be oblivious, and sometimes I purposely turn a blind eye to what's going on out there. It's strange to me, though, to think that I could not know until this morning what's happened to the people of Venezuela. Used to be, I'd read the news and know what I needed to pray for. Now I don't pray so much. I find it impossible and ludicrous (for me, personally, no judgment on those of you who are devout, praying people) to try to address a consciousness so much greater than my own. What I do, instead, is just try to unite mind to that larger one, and if there's something that I previously would have outright prayed for, now I just hold it in mind. So, this is my way of having Advent this morning. Listening to my favorite Advent song, and holding the people of Venezuela in mind as i try to connect my mind to a higher one. Peace and blessings.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
End of Semester Busyness
Wednesdsay, December 1, 2010
10:08pm
It's been a long day, and I just fell asleep in John's lap after coaxing him into reading my Foucault to me. I really love this book. It makes a lot of sense. I always appreciate a clear-cut, elegant argument. It's called The History of Sexuality, and while, yes, it does talk extensively on this particular topic, it also discusses the "history of truth," or how what we have, as a species, cumulatively come to accept as truth, evolved and was perpetuated through the use of various systems. So far it's doing a great job of pointing out the arbitrary quality of so many of our "rules." It's taking me more time than I feel like I have to read these 270 pages, but I'm hoping that it will provide good information for both papers I need to write within the next two weeks. I'd like to have it completely read by Friday. Oy.
So today... was up around 8. I had plans to meet with Abbie at the Rec Center at 9, but apparently she missed the bus. We were going to practice our respective languages, per her idea. She was going to speak all English, and I was going to speak all Spanish, as we pedaled on recumbent bikes for 45 minutes. Instead, I read Foucault and stayed on the bike for only half an hour. It really is so much more difficult to find the motivation to do long periods of cardio in the winter, inside. I can go well over an hour outside in good weather with music, but the environment really does affect me. After the bike, I did some legs and abs, too.
Came home, showered, had my appointment. I don't know that I really had much to say this time around... I was fairly scattered. Some days I don't know why I bother. Erggg...
After appointment, bought a pepperoni roll and some V8 at the Mountain Lair. I've been living off grab and go foods this week... Thanksgiving, what happened to you? Then went to Chitwood library to meet with Soney to work on revising our lesson plan for Dr. Amores. Came home, typed up my part of that, then from all the running around of the early part of the day, was feeling wiped and took a break.
Watched the remaining half of "Grey's Anatomy" while writing in my journal (I know, who needs to write that much... a blog and a journal?) and episode of "Friends" and then... another episode of "Friends." My break got longer than I wanted it to be. I just felt so fried and kept feeling like I was going to nod off. A couple cups of chai later, I was back to reading. Then I was back down again. Lorena and I were supposed to get together here at our place tonight to revise our reading activity, again for Dr. Amores, but her husband was late getting home and she had a headache. It's not due tomorrow, so no big deal. Instead of watching the second half of Step Brothers on TV, I'm sure I should have done more reading. My head's just in a lot of places today, and so I'm having some trouble concentrating. I probably need to spend some time in the library this weekend without any distractions.
Did a little more reading and now I'm in bed. Suppose I should try to go to sleep, since tomorrow is a long day. I have to be on campus from 8-5:15. Ugh. And I need to get up extra early to put the finishing touches on that lesson plan, so blah. Two and a half weeks, Casie. Two and a half weeks. December 15, I long for you.
Speaking of December 15, I made my appointment to get my tattoo filled in. It's at 2pm, so I'll be going to the 101 exam mildly delirious, but that's OK. I'm sure they won't know the difference, lol.
10:08pm
It's been a long day, and I just fell asleep in John's lap after coaxing him into reading my Foucault to me. I really love this book. It makes a lot of sense. I always appreciate a clear-cut, elegant argument. It's called The History of Sexuality, and while, yes, it does talk extensively on this particular topic, it also discusses the "history of truth," or how what we have, as a species, cumulatively come to accept as truth, evolved and was perpetuated through the use of various systems. So far it's doing a great job of pointing out the arbitrary quality of so many of our "rules." It's taking me more time than I feel like I have to read these 270 pages, but I'm hoping that it will provide good information for both papers I need to write within the next two weeks. I'd like to have it completely read by Friday. Oy.
So today... was up around 8. I had plans to meet with Abbie at the Rec Center at 9, but apparently she missed the bus. We were going to practice our respective languages, per her idea. She was going to speak all English, and I was going to speak all Spanish, as we pedaled on recumbent bikes for 45 minutes. Instead, I read Foucault and stayed on the bike for only half an hour. It really is so much more difficult to find the motivation to do long periods of cardio in the winter, inside. I can go well over an hour outside in good weather with music, but the environment really does affect me. After the bike, I did some legs and abs, too.
Came home, showered, had my appointment. I don't know that I really had much to say this time around... I was fairly scattered. Some days I don't know why I bother. Erggg...
After appointment, bought a pepperoni roll and some V8 at the Mountain Lair. I've been living off grab and go foods this week... Thanksgiving, what happened to you? Then went to Chitwood library to meet with Soney to work on revising our lesson plan for Dr. Amores. Came home, typed up my part of that, then from all the running around of the early part of the day, was feeling wiped and took a break.
Watched the remaining half of "Grey's Anatomy" while writing in my journal (I know, who needs to write that much... a blog and a journal?) and episode of "Friends" and then... another episode of "Friends." My break got longer than I wanted it to be. I just felt so fried and kept feeling like I was going to nod off. A couple cups of chai later, I was back to reading. Then I was back down again. Lorena and I were supposed to get together here at our place tonight to revise our reading activity, again for Dr. Amores, but her husband was late getting home and she had a headache. It's not due tomorrow, so no big deal. Instead of watching the second half of Step Brothers on TV, I'm sure I should have done more reading. My head's just in a lot of places today, and so I'm having some trouble concentrating. I probably need to spend some time in the library this weekend without any distractions.
Did a little more reading and now I'm in bed. Suppose I should try to go to sleep, since tomorrow is a long day. I have to be on campus from 8-5:15. Ugh. And I need to get up extra early to put the finishing touches on that lesson plan, so blah. Two and a half weeks, Casie. Two and a half weeks. December 15, I long for you.
Speaking of December 15, I made my appointment to get my tattoo filled in. It's at 2pm, so I'll be going to the 101 exam mildly delirious, but that's OK. I'm sure they won't know the difference, lol.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Busted Give a Damn and Moment of Compassion
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
5:55pm
Sitting alone in the dark, just asked John for a few minutes of silence. Sometimes all the noise and chaos of everyday life just gets to be too much, and I need space, dark, and silence to bring it all back around. Had planned on writing later on tonight, but I need the quiet now.
Today was my last session of 101. This semester really has been... like I've said again and again... just a lot. I'm surprised it's almost over, because while I have done what I need to do for school, like superficially, I've been so caught up in so much else, that I've barely noticed the time passing. Oddly, I actually sort of look forward to writing these papers and finishing out the semester.
We just had a TV delivered; John ordered one for us over Thanksgiving break, and it arrived today. I feel a little bad not helping him with it, but it's just been so much stimuli today, that I must sit here and not be bothered. Just ate some leftover pizza and am getting ready to go to the Rec. I'm hoping that's going to bring my energy back around so I can do some reading/research/grading tonight. Whatever productive thing I do, it would be good to put in a couple of hours. I'm trying to pace myself these last two weeks, yes, but still keep going.
I had a rare moment of mercy today. A student walked into class twenty minutes late, after everyone had already finished the quiz and we were on to the semester review. I held him after class to see what was up, and there's this grown man speaking in a whimpering voice about PRT troubles. I'd let out five minutes early anyway, so I asked him why he didn't tell me what had happened. He said, looking sadly at the floor and faltering for words, that he figured I wouldn't care. :( Um, hello? I always make that optional study guide, give that optional review... I don't care? Ooofff... I know I probably shouldn't have, but I asked him if he wanted to take the quiz and waited while he finished it. I remember always feeling nearly ready to blow my head off between Thanksgiving and Christmas break as an undergraduate. Every little frustration was inflated, but so, too, was any small act of kindness. So, I was unreasonably and illogically nice. Oh well.
(WHY DID JOHN JUST COME BUSTING THROUGH HERE TURNING THE LIGHTS ON AND DIGGING THROUGH THE CLOSET?!?!?! SILEENNNNNNNCCCCEEE!!!)
Oy, John and I are very different on this detail. He wakes up full of zest and perk. I wake up full of anxiety and exhaustion. Perky comments about the day and tickling me makes me feel like I'm just going to take a massive dump in the middle of the floor. >:( When I get off from school/work, I want quiet, I want a void. No more sensory input!!!
Although, I have to say, I am getting a little better about my noise intolerance. Two kids across from me at the library today were having an all out conversation about something totally irrelevant to their school work (which is the only way I'm ever able to mentally excuse chitchat in a library), and I was able to complete my own task without having to say something about it. Well, I really don't usually say something about it, but I sit there and think so hard about saying something that I can't concentrate on my work. But today I did my work! Yay me! OK, so I know how ridiculous that sounds, but we all have our little hang ups.
So, on lots of things recently, I'm finding my give-a-damn to be busted, as the song goes. Usually, always really, I am so exceptionally compassionate and caring that... no matter my own situation, I will find one more little piece of myself to dig up for you. I think I've dug all I can dig lately, sourced myself out to various areas where there's been an affinity, and now... I'm just irritated. I have my own shit to deal with, and for once, that is going to be my priority. I have academic and personal things I'm trying to take care of, and when various situations and people just keep bringing me the same shit on different days and are still unable to acknowledge where I'm at... I'm just saying... my give a damn's busted.
OK, I better go to the Rec now before I really can't get up. I'm soooooo tired!!!
Monday, November 29, 2010
E(mb)ra(c)e me, (re)place me.
See, you can embrace me
or you can erase me
but you can't place me
on the shelf
in the cool recesses
of your mind.
I won't stay, I won't wait.
It's about a quarter 'til
"it's too late."
You can't walk away
come back any day
expect me to be the same
it don't work that way.
I gave what I had,
if it wasn't enough, too bad.
'Cause you can embrace me
or you can erase me
but you can't replace me.
or you can erase me
but you can't place me
on the shelf
in the cool recesses
of your mind.
I won't stay, I won't wait.
It's about a quarter 'til
"it's too late."
You can't walk away
come back any day
expect me to be the same
it don't work that way.
I gave what I had,
if it wasn't enough, too bad.
'Cause you can embrace me
or you can erase me
but you can't replace me.
Getting Ready for a Swim
Monday, November 29, 2010
8:26am
Well, first things first, Carly turns 21 today! Happy birthday, little sister! I hope to have the time after my research and writing day to take her out for a celebratory drink.
Despite all the reading and writing I need to do today, I am first going to the Rec Center to swim some laps. I find it's even more important, in times of heightened stress and busyness to be sure to take that kind of time for the self. And there really is something connecting about the water, that calms me and puts me in touch with myself. After all, 70% of my body is made of water. I believe the body has its own intelligence, and when it can interact with things that make sense to it, it behaves better for you.
Nothing exciting has happened since I last posted; just figured I might try to get into a morning and evening groove with this to allot some quiet time. Today's going to be a marathon, as well as these next couple weeks, but I'm strong and calm. *Flexes* Lol
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