party girl's new world

goodbye old friend

2009-06-03T22:04:00.006-05:00

Well, it's time. Time to move the blog. Time to shut down this one.

I know it's silly, but I'm kinda sad about moving. Silly. But true. The blog was and has been my safe place, my emotional outlet, the place where I could be free and be me, all of me, any me, every me-any day of the week.

It's just time. Time to move on. I've changed. This part of me is closed. The person who was when this blog started, no longer is.

I've grown. I've matured. I've healed.

Nine months of intensely painful therapy will do that. I would hope it would do that. Thank god it did that for me.

So, it's time to move. I hope you will all continue to join me on my new journey. If not, that's fine too. I'm glad you were here for this part of the journey. But this part of the journey is now over.

http://ongoingchapters.wordpress.com/

just sayin'

2009-05-21T23:15:00.002-05:00

I seem to be drinking a lot.

"A lot" is subjective.

But, there appears to be a few empty wine bottles and a few empty beer bottles about my kitchen area.
There may be an empty vodka bottle as well.

These weren't emptied all at once.
I mean, that's just irresponsible drinking and begging for a hangover.

More like one at a time over the course of a few weeks.

Okay. It hasn't been a few weeks. Just since school has been finished.

So a few-ish weeks.

I need to empty my fridge for the move.

No sense in adding to the move-age, ya know? Just practical, really.

I like being practical.

I also seem to be drinking alone.
I hear when you drink alone that's the sign of a true alcoholic.
Just what I hear.

Probably just rumors.

I ignore rumors.
And bad advice.

That bottle of red wine from Budapest that I was saving was dee-lish.
I like dee-lish.
And de-groovy.
De-light can sometimes be bright and distracting.
But I don't like to dance with another.

quote of the week: yeah, but what color is it?

2009-05-21T11:01:00.001-05:00

"It's white."
-George Washington describing the White House.

inner dork: a watched pot

2009-05-21T10:53:00.002-05:00

Two weeks in a row! Holy cow, inner dork is really back!

Did you know that water boils at 212 degrees Fahrenheit at sea level, and at 150 degrees Fahrenheit at the top of Mount Everest.

Hmmm, interesting.

But what happens if you watch that pot?

the computer flu

2009-05-19T11:44:00.002-05:00

So, on Sunday my computer was taken down by the Trojan Horse computer virus. It was fun. However, I (think) (hope) (pray) that I was able to outwit it. I outwitted it by going into my control panel and adding anti-virus protection, while my screen was shouting at me to buy the no-name anti-virus wear for $49.95. More than 24 hours later...and at 15+ viruses were contained.

Who's a bad ass?

Me.

Or just extremely patient and broke, therefore, I had the time and the broke-ness made me fix it myself.
Had school still been in session, these same patience would not have been found.

However, in all of this, I discovered that yes, I am WAY to dependent on technology. Well, not so much technology, cause I do not have an i-Pod, or any other techie gear, but I have become way too dependent on my computer and more specifically, email. Gosh, but I do love the e-mail. Part of this had to do with the fact that I posted a lot of my stuff on craigslist and I wanted to see if I had any inquires (well over 10 for my free couch and recliner. Which have both been spoken for.) (nothing for the things I want money for. Go figure.) But still, I think I need to ween myself from the keyboard.

How about you? What are you too dependent on?

clean-up

2009-05-16T14:09:00.002-05:00

The parents came for a quick stay-over and left after a good breakfast of carbs, dead animals, and grease.

A lot of stuff was donated and a lot of stuff was sent home with them to put into my old bedroom.
A lot more still needs to be packed. (sigh.) I hate packing, moving I don't mind so much. Packing, to me, means throw-out, get rid of, donate, and why the hell do I have this? eck! Get rid of it. It's cathartic.

I should probably be packing right now.

Honestly, if it was practical I would donate, sell, and throw-out 99% of what I own. By the time it is over, I will have donated about 25% of my schtuff.
Why not all 99%? Well, because I will need to replace it. Ala, my couch, chair...and that takes money and my mortgage payment kicks-in in December and it's for 10 years, so..... ("Mortgage" means "student loans.")

However, the big, ugly, comfy couch will be donated and so will the recliner, which is in perpetual recline. The reason? The couch has lost one of its adjectives (comfy) and the recliner (although still amazingly comfy) is in perpetual recline (meaning, it's broken.) So much of my stuff is old. And it was old when I received it for free, so, it's time to donate it on.
Oh, and my microwave, which I call "the oldest microwave ever invented and still in continual use." It's a monster. Cook a 20 lbs. turkey in it, monster. It also might not be safe. Safe to use. Some of those micro waves may not be staying in the unit. It's just a theory I have, but probably not that far-fetched. (Truly, it's from the late 70s, early 80s. They don't make 'em like this anymore.)

Anyway. I've thought about what do I really need, materially, what do I need? Clothes (as in what I have, non-name label), my funky jewelry (much of which I have made)(or have come from my travels) and my artwork (paints, brushes, canvases, and what I have made/completed) that's about it.
It used to include my books. I love reading and learning, but I've learned that's what the library is for. (Half.com is a great way to sell and make money.)

So, if that's all I need, why do I have more than that?

How about you, what do you need? Cannot part with?

goodness!

2009-05-14T21:44:00.002-05:00

As of this moment I have been viewed 11,000 times.

I feel so exposed.

But in a good way.

I also feel this is a good time to give a heads up that I will be moving. Moving my living space and also my blog space. More on that next week or so.

The week+ of no school has been pure bliss. Heavenly. Lovely. No guilt that I should be doing something other than sleeping and watching mindless TV. Worry over a grade, a paper, or something else completely arbitrary and out of my control. I have been in school since 2003. Full time since 2004. The longest break I've had from the book learning has been winter break of three weeks. I also worked in academia...that's a lot of schoolin'.

Anyway. It's been wonderful.

More on the move next week. Or so.

inner dork: 86'd

2009-05-13T21:20:00.003-05:00

ohmygodinnerdorkisback!

I know! I'm giddy and running my words together, too!

So, having worked in the restaurant biz, and my infinite love for the Travel Channel and the Food Network (although the love for the Food Net is waning. Not a fan of the new shows.) Anywho, I've always wondered where the phrase 86'd came from.

So, after several consultations, I found that there is not one answer, but several. So, I am going with the answers I saw the most frequently and the ones which make the most plausible sense.

Did you know....

The phrase 86'd referrers to when a diner/restaurant/cafe/coffee shop/food eatery of the like and kind that serve food and beverages, runs out of said food and drink items.
Why 86'd and not 23?

Because: a grave is 8 feet long and 6 feet deep. Hence, 86.
Or, because New York had a statute #86 that stated a bartender should stop serving a patron when they became too inebriated. (hmm, I've been 86'd once.) (Maybe more.) (I couldn't say with any accuracy how many times it may or may not have happened.)
Another answer is that restaurants used to use a number system: ie: 33, I want a cherry coke, 82 meant, "I want a glass of water," 99, the manager is around. And so on.

Hmm, who knew?? Not me.

You've been dorked.

just askin'

2009-05-13T10:42:00.001-05:00

Bridezillas, what the hell. How do these women get men to agree to marry them?
What the hell is wrong with the men who are agreeing to marry them?

Train wreck. Absolute train wreck.

Cannot turn my eyes away from said train wreck.

super-quick update

2009-05-07T15:08:00.003-05:00

First, anon comments are ridiculous.

Second, I.am.finished.with.grad.school!!!

Tuesday was my official last day. Yay!

Wednesday a girlfriend and I went out for lunch..for four hours...it was awesome to just sit and not have lingering guilt that I should be doing school work, or talking about school work, or worrying about school work. Awesomeness.

I won't know my grades until Wednesday. Two classes I was hanging on for dear life to my "B" so, let's hope I was able to do so. One class was an undergrad class, I was one of two grad students in there and truly, she expected PhD-style work from us. Um, no.

Anyway, it's over, it's done. Thank you jesus, and karma, and budda, and, and, and!

On the job possibilities front, I have two leads. One is working one-on-one with special needs children and adults (thanks, facebook for the power of reconnecting with old friends and networking). The other is a an amazing opportunity, which would have me moving to St. Louis. I really want this gig, so I am not going to jinx it by speaking of its amazing-ness. (When I speak of things on the blog, they get jinxed.)

Okay, I hope everyone is amazing and I will hence-forth be reading each blog faithfully and I will now also have the brain-power to comment.

Thanks for all of your well-wishes, encouragement, and love and hugs over the past two years, I really, really greatly appreciate it all!

zero motivation, zero attention span

2009-04-23T14:32:00.003-05:00

Seriously. I cannot focus on school, on words, on learning, on edumacation, on anything. Nothing. Zilch. Zip. Neal. Nada. No-thing. Not a thing. Not one thing. Zip.

All the words seem to be in Swahili and they are very, very big words with way too many syllables. Today, next week, and then finals week. Then, done. DONE! Done, I say!

It wouldn't be so bad, except that, in dealing with such issues as restraining orders and "advisors" who did not feel like abiding by accommodations granted by the school, therefore, I have to go in on Saturday and make-up a public finance test. Blech. Ah, opportunity costs and short attention spans which could not be accounted for back in February.

Okay, and typing. Apparently I've lost the ability to type. Oh dear god! Let the pain and suffering end.

On the comps front, I have not made a decision one way or the other. I'm just going to concentrate on the next two weeks and go from there. OMC asked why I came to grad school. I came to learn and to get a job in the human rights field. I did not come for the piece of paper, for the glory of the cap and gown, for the initals behind my name, or for a bigger paycheck. Of course, I would love a bigger paycheck, but let's be honest, human rights doesn't present a lot of monetary benefits, the benefits are in other ways. As long as I can pay my bills, get out of debt, and still have a few dollars at the end of the week to hit a happy hour, I'm golden. So, I'll keep you posted.

However, the way the job market is right now, I'll be lucky to land a gig at Starbucks by the time it's all over with.

another year older, so that surly means another year wiser

2009-04-18T12:45:00.002-05:00

Oy, yesterday was my big birthday, 35. I've been dreading this birthday for some time, 35!!!...However, the closer it got to being here, the prouder I became to say that I was turning that age.

Interesting time last night. A friend who I have not seen since 1995 came up to stay with me. we reconnected on Facebook back in March and he and I talk everyday. Weird how the world works.

In other news, comps and orals did not go so well. Orals was the most horrific experience, ever. Horrible. It was only supposed to last 45 minutes, mine was one hour and six minutes of pure interrogation hell. Not at all what I was expecting...the others was just as bad, not just me being grilled. Has anyone been through this process? I'm just curious as to what others experiences have been.

Anyway, my question is: I'm not sure I want to re-take the portions I have to re-do. The thought of it is very daunting to say the least and the twitch that has been in my left eye for the past few months has moved to my left cheek, quite annoying. So, my question: does anyone know what the difference would be between "masters degree" versus "masters degree candidate" on a resume and interview process?

Any help would be appreciated. I want out of this town. And yes, of course, I have gone back and forth and forth and back over and over all of this and cycled through all the emotions about 46 times since Wednesday night.

lessons in stress management

2009-03-31T11:54:00.004-05:00

Comps are on Thursday and Friday. All positive energy and thoughts being sent my way are appreciated. Two days of testing, nine subjects, 10 questions; no idea what those questions are/will be. Eck! (Every moment I am awake, there has been a book, note, computer, pen in my hand, face, mind.)

Stress level, too high to count.
Here is my state of (mind) life from last week:

Tuesdays are my incredibly long day. I’m in class from 11:00-8:00 and by the time I leave class I am cross-eyed exhausted and famished. So, I sprint across campus to buy my late night dinner, boogie on home, change my clothes, wash my face, take-out my contacts, clean my glasses, put on my glasses and inhale my dinner where chewing may or may not be involved (definitely will not be involved.)

Last week was no different. The only difference was when I put on my glasses. Glasses on and my world is a blurry-eyed mass of colors and indistinguishable figures. In 1.5 seconds there is a rush of thoughts and emotions: “I am going blind. The stress of grad school has stolen my eye-sight. Awesome. I don’t have insurance, how am I going to pay to get my eyesight back? My glasses are broken! In the five minutes it took me to wash my face I lost my eyesight. My prescription changed, holy hell, I’ve gone blind. I’m going to fail grad school because I cannot see to take my exams, or read, or write. Perhaps I will be able to fulfill my dream to play the piano.” What in god’s name is going on with my brain-eye connection?

I take off my glasses to see what has gone wrong with my vision.
Wait. I can still see.
It’s a miracle! I’m cured!

It’s either a miracle or, my contacts are still in.

Contacts + glasses = a blurry world of colors and figures. My dream of becoming a piano player is over.

So, I inhale my dinner and decide that I should study.

But then I think perhaps studying for my comprehensive exams can wait. After all, I did just temporarily lose my eyesight.
I compromise.
Instead I open (and drink) a large glass (also known as a bottle) of wine, take a Xanax, and watch Jim Gaffigan on Comedy Central.
Believe it or not, Xanax + a large glass (bottle) of wine does not = an insomnia cure. Believe it or not, it makes for a very restless night of sleep.

Grad school has turned me into a pill popping-sleep deprived-emotional eating- alcoholic.
……
….
…
Okay, fine. Just a pill-popper. (It’s for stress.) (Swear.)

Daily school work+ exams+ finals+ comps = the need to pop pills. (There for stress.) (Swear.)

School is over in 5 weeks.

Not that I’m counting.

Stress management lesson is over. (Oh, there’s a lesson in there. You just have to be willing to see what it is.)

exhausted

2009-03-23T14:02:00.002-05:00

Spring break is over and I am more exhausted than I was when it started.

Pages written and typed-up: over 50.
Pages read and written about: close to 200.
Hours spent studying for comps: Not nearly enough.
Days until comps: 9.
Hours, minutes, days spent drinking: zero.

Hmmm, I think I just found my problem.

whoo-hoo!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's spring break!

2009-03-12T19:17:00.002-05:00

Yippee, fucking, Skippy!

As it is Thursday, and what I hope becomes a Thursday tradition, I am once again, tipsy. Tipsy, not drunk. Here's why college towns rock: double vodka cranberry, a shot of Jager, and an appetizer; my total: $5.34, with tip: $7.34. Awesomeness.

Anywho. So, after studying my ass off, over 20 hours since Monday, to study for my Public Finance exam today, I had no idea how to answer the first question. The question which was worth 25 points, or, what is a quarter of my grade. So, I did the only thing I know how to do: ramble about everything else that had to do with financing and problems with it. Throw a dart and I'm sure I hit shit-pie somewhere. Otherwise, I think I aced the test...well, aced as best that an be aced on a Public Finance exam. Please-oh-please let me get at least a B on the exam.

So, what will I be doing during spring break? Well, buckle-up Cowboy, it's pretty freakin riveting: I have three papers, one take-home test, and a presentation all due on Tuesday 24..or, what is my first day back to school after spring break. Yay. So, I have to do all of that, plus, study for comps in the next week. Should be awesome.

Comps are April 2nd and 3rd. Two days of 16 hours worth of brain dump.
This semester is kicking my ass, but somehow it is flying by. Flying, zip, zoom, boom, flash.

Time to start the take-home exam.

Oh, and it is inner dork Thursday, here's a quickie: Lysol was originally marketed as a douche for contraceptive purposes.
Yep.
All I have to say is, fucking-a ouch.

whoa

2009-03-05T18:58:00.002-06:00

Right now, I am borderline drunk.

In another 30 inutes (or so) I will be drunk. (I'mleaving the typos for effect)

I went out with the first years. Best time I've jad in a very, very long time/

Three long island iced teas, one fuck-up drink that the waitress gave to me, and a margarita...all in an hour and fifteen minutes. (wow. fifteen is hard to spell out)

Good times, good laughts, good hot flashes of alcohol, and brain freeze.)

I needed tonight. Boy fif I need tonight. (i'm leaving that typo, too)

It's been hectic and stressful semester. More on that later. I like the first years. I hate the econd years (a.k.a. my classmates)

I'm outtie. Hope your Thursday was wonderful and spectacular.

morning promises, afternoon resolutions

2009-03-02T21:36:00.000-06:00

Being a 34 year-old (almost 35, eck!) grad student, I’ve decided I should live a healthier life. I wake-up all bushy-eyed and wide-tailed (no, wait, that’s not right.) (Or, maybe it is.) and I decide I should live a healthier life. I think I will eat only fruit and give my body a cleanse. Yes! What a wonderful positive step in the right direction.

I down my morning fruit smoothie and think, this is great! For lunch I’ll have a V-8 and a veggie blend of juice and it will be delicious and my body will thank me. I will be all glowy and my body will say, “thank you.”
Go me! I. am. awesome.

Then ‘round 2-ish I decide a hot dog sounds delicious.

Cleanse, over.

The hot dog goes against my new vegetarian mentality, but I’m sure this too shall pass. I have given up the cow, the pig, the fish, and the chicken. I, apparently, cannot give up the mystery meat. The mystery meat is delicious and my nemesis. (fist goes in the air, “foiled again!”)

the sense of entitlement

2009-02-25T00:05:00.002-06:00

Many of my fellow classmates have this idea of what constitutes "their job" within their current employment. The idea that their boss tells them to do something (duties as assigned) that they feel/believe is beneath them.

Now.

I've had a million and two odd and various jobs; nothing was or is beneath me. There might have been things I did not want to, or did not care to do, but beneath me, no.

This also plays into the current job market and the impending graduation. I would love to get my dream job, with my dream salary, in my dream city, and have life be all daydreams and daisies.
The reality is, I am planning to move back home for at least the summer until a job pans out. Even if I do have a job upon graduation, I will still be living at home for at least the summer. (assuming job is in home city.)

However, I am prepared for no job, no income, no dream. I am well prepared to take a job at Starbucks, as a janitor cleaning toilets, or working as a fry cook in the local greasy spoon and any number of various dry good and sundry jobs that come with money.

My fellow classmates do not have this same perspective or reality. Job cleaning toilets? Job making $10 an hour (with any luck)..?!?!? Absolutely not.
Granted many of these classmates have parents who are willing, able, and happy to take care, pay for, and supplement any income for.
I do not. My parents are willing to help me out, live at home "rent free" (rent will be paid in chores) and helping out financially in other ways until I have an income coming in, but I can guarantee that they, as well as I, expect me to get a job of some kind (if available) and contribute in some form.
This would be the same idea of something I posted about a few years ago: I did not have a summer job, I had a job. (gee golly gosh, I've been in the work force (legally) for 20 years. (illegally) for 26 (thanks, babysitting.)

So. Where did this sense, idea, of entitlement come from and more importantly, how can we make it go away?

inner dork: The history of toilet paper

2009-02-04T20:15:00.002-06:00

Because OMC is a demanding little bugger:

I give you, the history of toilet paper:

Did you know…

Before the invention of toilet paper as we know it, people used fur, grass, leaves, their hands. (side note: this is why in some cultures the left hand is considered unclean. I will leave it at that.) (Because they use their left hand…) (In case it wasn’t clear.)

The ancient Greeks used stones and pieces of clay; ancient Romans used sponges on the ends of sticks, kept in jugs filled with salty water. (Cause that seems clean and as if it wouldn’t lead to other diseases or anything.)

Toilet paper as paper dates back at least to the late 14th Century, when Chinese emperors ordered it in 2-foot x 3-foot sheets. (Goodness that’s big.)

Corncobs were next (youch!) and then, of course the Sears cateloug (cause I like to shop while…you know…) (Which, why do people bring reading material into the bathroom? I am never in there for any length of time to warrant this. Which maybe that's the reason I don't understand it...)

Joseph C. Gayetty of New York started producing the first packaged toilet paper in the U.S. in 1857. It consisted of pre-moistened flat sheets medicated with aloe and was named "Gayetty’s Medicated Paper". Gayetty's name was printed on every sheet. (Now that’s advertising.)

Rolled and perforated toilet paper was invented around 1880. It can be attributed to the Albany Perforated Wrapping (A.P.W.) Paper Company in 1877, and to the Scott Paper company in 1879 or 1890. On a side note, the Scott Company was too embarrassed to put their name on their product, as the concept of toilet paper was a sensitive subject at the time, so they customized it for their customers... hence the Waldorf Hotel became a big name in toilet paper. (I had no idea!)

In 1935, Northern Tissue advertised "splinter-free" toilet paper. (Holy smokers! I would have thought that by 1935, this “issue of the tissue” (I just came up with that) would have solved.

In 1942, St. Andrew's Paper Mill in Great Britain introduced two-ply toilet paper (those fancy Brits)

America experienced its first toilet paper shortage in 1973. (Because…..???)

Now, we have double-ply...which I keep forgetting I buy, therefore, I'm really not eliminating any waste (pun was not intended) because I keep using the same amount.

I knew some of this, but not all of this, so thanks: http://www.nobodys-perfect.com/vtpm/ExhibitHall/Informational/tphistory.html
For providing the info I did not know.

OMC, you’ve finally been dorked! How does it feel?

reflection

2009-02-04T14:12:00.002-06:00

I've thought about this often, but finally feel the need to write it out; remember when this blog was funny and insightful? Full of clever and witty moments and comments?

Okay, so maybe that is a bit high on myself, but you know what I mean. I feel like I have been such a Debbie Downer and Negative Nelly as of late. Late being the last year..or so... I know and understand that things change, making people change. Or people change, therefore, things change, which, it what has happened with me. But, still. I'm ready for it to change back. Which, I know I can control, to a certain extent, and not to the other extent, but I am ready for things to change. For the better. Nay, the best.

I guess there isn't really a point to this point, just that, yes, I've notice it too, and I'm working on it.

a moment to vent

2009-02-02T22:41:00.002-06:00

Okay, so, we got our comp exam schedule (March 30 and 31, eck!) and, in doing my part, I followed-up with my "advisor" to remind him that I need to take my exams alone, per the no contact order.

His response?

That I would be taking the exam in another room on the third floor, and my fellow classmates would be taking the exam in a room on the third floor as well, but he felt comfortable that I would not come into contact with BJ.

Um, are you fucking kidding me?

So, instead of doing the email back and forth thing, I just called him to get an explanation. Classmates will be on the third floor and the room they want to put me in should (keyword) be moved to the basement (of the same building) come exam day. Again, he felt sure that I would not come into contact with my fellow classmates. He, of course, could not guarantee this, but he felt sure.

I did not. I explained this. It was clear I was not getting anywhere. So. I very eloquent email off to the crisis counselor, who shared my thoughts and feelings. Let's see where this goes.

I am so fucking tired and frustrated. The very fact that I had to follow-up. I was afraid of this kind of "accommodation" from the very beginning. The fact that my "advisor" talked to me as if I was a problem and being unreasonable. The fact that I am still dealing with and talking about it.

ARGH!

I am SO tired of this school, of this town, of the people, of the program, of this place. I am doing my best to make the most out of my last months, but truly, the bad, horrible, no good days have SO, SO, SO outweighed the good, that really, has it been worth it? Did I make the biggest mistake of my life by quitting my job and coming here? Who knows and time will tell, but truly, this is another stupid and frustrating situation that simply did not need to happen, which has been the theme of this journey called grad school.

Vent, over.

not dead

2009-01-22T10:21:00.003-06:00

Just very over-whelmed with school, life, and all things dealing with me. Actually, I've been in a rather awesome mood the last few days, and for no particular reason at all.

Last semester did not end well and I was dealing with all of the (very unnecessarily) (CBA professor telling me I received one grade, when really, I received a much different lower grade. Another professor losing one of my papers and instead of telling me this, he just gave me an "Incomplete" for the semester. Which, I sent him my paper again (over a month ago) and he still has not posted my grade. Yes, I have emailed him about this) (and some other crap-a-roo-ni) crap of that during my break. Nice. However, it has been all dealt with, handled, pissed about and over and now onto the next, new, and last semester of my grad school career (thank god for that).

This past weekend one of my guy friends and I were supposed to go on what was to be a relaxing and fun-filled roadtrip. It was a blast for about 6 hours. Then we hit a deer in the middle of BFE IL at 5:45 in the a.m. Raodtrip no longer fun or stress-free.

I am taking classes sans classmates, which has been awesome and even more awesome. However, the three classes I am taking this semester (my last one!!) are very, very (very) paper intensive and well, I still have my research paper from last semester to finish, and comps to study for...so yeah. That's why I am not dead, just MIA. I will try to not be so MIA in the near future. But, I don't promise anything.

Hope you are all doing awesome and swell!

she's in control

2008-12-16T17:19:00.004-06:00

...now I've got a lot...

Just an update on the life of a defunct party girl.

I (finally) heard yesterday in regards to BJ and the hearing (only took over two weeks, but whatever) (and I had to do the follow-up of, what the hell is going on). BJ was found guilty.

Yep. Guilty of all charges and claims.

-He is on academic disciplinary probation. Meaning, you fuck-up again, you're out.
-The 'no contact' order has been issued indefinitely. (Thank god)
-He was ordered to write me an apology letter. (I was asked if I wanted one of not, after much thought, I decided I did, but I wanted it to be approved by the Dean first, not just sent to me. I received it today via email. I have not read it and I am not sure if I will.

Frankly, I really do not believe that BJ is sorry. I think BJ is sorry that I took action, that it went as far as it did, and that he alienated himself from the group. However, I do not believe that he sees it that way; I think he believe I alienated him from the group, which I did not. Frankly, I don't think the group wants me around any more than I want to be around them. This is why I am purposely not taking any classes with them next semester.
Also, I will be taking my comprehensive exams alone, not with everyone else, so that I do not have to see BJ.
They are also deciding on whether or not BJ can attend graduation as I have asked that he not be allowed to.

So, today was my big CBA final and today is the last time that I will (hopefully) ever have to see BJ or (really anyone, minus my best gal) again. And thank god for that. Grad school has been a lot of things, but really, few of them have been good.

I still have three paper to finish by Thursday. One, CBA, I received an extension on, the other one, Ethics, is due by Thursday and my research paper, well, hopefully he will give me an RC (research continued) and not throw a big fit, cause it is not going to be finished by Thursday. (As a reminder, this is the prof who rolled his eyes at me.) So.

I think that's it for now.

Oh, and I've met someone. I really like him and we spend on average about 4-5 hours a night on the phone.(he does not live in home state) I'm being vulnerable, open, and honest; it feels pretty awesome.
You know how you don't know what the problem is, or you don't see a problem and then the lights come on and all becomes clear? Well, that's sort of been me this semester, the lights are on, it was painful getting to this point (very painful) and a difficult journey (quite ugly, actually) which is far from complete, but I can see where I was and where I am, and it's pretty damn huge. But it also feels pretty damn great.

I'm really friggin tired right now

2008-12-11T21:50:00.000-06:00

...that's all.

Completely sorry for being MIA

2008-12-07T14:03:00.003-06:00

Well, maybe not completely sorry. I have been diligently typing away at my pile and lists of "to do" (alas, there is no "honey" attached to it) before the end of the semester strikes.

Since I received extensions on two of my deadlines, this has only added to the pile. Relieved the stress (temporarily) but, still, the papers and their deadlines are on the list.

Today I managed to finish two more papers and start two others. This in despite of really, really, really (no, really) wanting to stay in a horizontal position on my big, ugly, comfy couch.
But, no, I was strong (or the stress and panic attack kicked my butt into gear) and I sweated it out at the keyboard for a few hours. However, that was all the more I was able to do. I think I have caught a bug. Not a bed bug or a love bug, but the
-am I going to throw-up?- bug. Thus, the creativity needed to write and not to plagiarize and be thrown out of school was in short supply by the time I reached papers 3 and 4.

Next week is my last week of classes, the following is finals week. As horrible (horrible, terribly, no good) as this semester has been, gee-golly-gosh has it flown on by.

And speaking of asshole, BJ received his "no contact" order over break, his hearing was on Wednesday, I have not heard anything to know what has/has not been done or agreed upon.
....only one week left....

some ponderings

2008-12-03T08:27:00.002-06:00

Some thoughts:

Have you ever wondered just how cold fuck is?
As in the sentence: "It's cold as fuck out there"
This can also be seen in the phrasing, "It's hot as fuck out there."

Now, I've had some hot fucking, so maybe that's what it means, but cold as fuck? I've had some bad fucks, but I don't believe I have ever had any cold fucks. Dated a few, but that's another story.

If beer, mead, wine, alcohol, were the basic liquids to quench a thirst for most of time, then how did people get anything done? I bet they were tired, sleepy you might say, and drunk. Drunk just about all the time; just about everyday I would venture to guess. So, why can't we drink while at work, school? I would be much more productive and happy. Well, maybe not productive. I would probably have more pee breaks.

Fetal alcohol syndrome. It's bad. It's been shown that women should not drink while pregnant, if they do, there may be consequences. But what about my previous pondering. Women drank all the time, so in theory there were a lot of people (fetuses) who had fetal alcohol syndrome throughout time....so....were there just a lot of special needs person walking around and no one noticed?

Because we are all different, this causes conflict. Annoyances. I want to smack a lot of people upside their head. So, if we were all the same, would we get along better, or would that just cause more conflict? Typically those who I am closest to in personality, I want to smack the hardest in the head.

...that's all for now.

*This post is a result of being woken-up at 6 a.m. this morning and trying (unsuccessfully) to fall back to sleep.

**The result of the disturbance was due to my neighbor turning on the shower, the pipes rattling to the point of it sounding like a machine gun and my heart beating like machine gun blasts in my chest. Good morning.

and now, a break

2008-11-29T16:20:00.003-06:00

So, I am interrupting my incredibly productive homework paper writing session (not sarcasm) to write a post. (So many papers to go, so little time left in the semester.) (Oh, not sure if I mentioned this, but two professors gave me an extension on two of my papers. Thank you, a million and eight, thank yous.)

As much as I was not looking forward to coming home, boy am I glad to be home and boy, do I not want to go back to my apartment. (I can't imagine why)(sarcasm.)

Wednesday afternoon I stopped into old place of employment to say hello to those I miss and love. They still miss and love me, too. Ah, nice.

Later in the afternoon I came home, did a large amount of laundry (sad that at 34 I am still bringing my dirty clothes home?) and spent some time with the moms cooking and talking. Nice.

Thursday I cooked (a large portion of the meal, good for my soul) and gained about 8.6 pounds (pretty sure it was all in carbs.)

Friday mom and I decorated the house while Papa decorated the outside of the house.

Last night was spent working on an art project (old t-shirts, cut into strips, braided together, then take the braids and sew them together until a purse/bag is formed.) (It should be finished by the time my grandkids graduate from college.)

Saturday was spent shopping around Target (or, I looked and moms shopped) along with a gazillion and two hundred other people. Oy.

Tonight, I am going out with one of my former employees from former place of employment for dinner and drinks. (We care more about the drinks than the eats) (and my body is screaming, yelling, begging for something green and in the vegetable category), but I am also looking for the sit long and talk much that she and I do so well. She is old enough to be my mother, and old hippie and cool as hell and great at listening and not judging.

Tomorrow, another former employee, now a kind friend, and I are going for coffee. Both of these friends have had a strong tone with me regarding all that has gone on with me and for not calling them or telling them about any of it prior to this week. Yeah, well....

Tomorrow in the late afternoon I will be heading home. I am not looking forward to it. Can't imagine why.(sarcasm) I also have not been sleeping; this is even with two sleeping pills and an anxiety pill; again, I can't image why.

On a completely unrelated front: I have brought my Cost-Benefit Analysis grade up from a D+ at mid-term to a C as of today. I really want to end the semester with a B. Here's hoping.

I hope all of you had a great Turkey Day and are filled to the top with beige carb deliciousness and warm feelings from family and friends.

an update

2008-11-25T16:54:00.002-06:00

I just received a phone call stating that the no contact order was issued. It will be mailed out tomorrow, which means he will get it by Friday.

However, he is not home because of the holiday. So, my goal for him to receive it during the holiday, is not going to work. Also, it is a certified letter, he won't be home. So, this concerns me a bit.

Also, he will receive a letter stating that a school complaint has been issued against him and that it will go before a panel.

Needless to say, I am a bit emotional.

Also, the only person, other than my therapist who knows, is my mom. I did not want to bring my best gal into the situation that way, if someone asks her something, she literally, can play innocent to the situation. AND if BJ should be so stupid as to mention this to anyone, I have recourse.

But, a support network would be awesome right about now.

(and exhale.)

follow through

2008-11-24T15:00:00.002-06:00

Today I asked for the "no contact" order to be issued.
I filled out all of the paperwork and answered and asked questions.

Tomorrow the paperwork will go before the Dean of Students and he will review it to see if the issues is necessary.

I also asked to file a university complaint.

What that means is that I asked that BJ be removed from my classes and attend the classes at an individual study instead.

Since I issued a complaint that means I will have to meet with the Dean of Students and answer all of his questions and go over everything all over again.

The complaint can be denied and I'm not sure if it will be issued or not.

The no contact order will more than likely be issued.

When I meet with the Dean of Students I will also ask about comprehensive exams and that I take them elsewhere so that I do not have to be in the same room with, or see, BJ on that day. I will also ask about graduation as he and I are close alphabetically.

Anyway. That's all. I am emotionally exhausted.

what taking control feels like

2008-11-21T17:27:00.003-06:00

So, this was supposed to be an uneventful week and heavy on the homework so that I could relax starting yesterday.

Instead, it started out heavy on the homework and ended heavy into the continued drama.

The short of it: BJ has suddenly started to join in the group during class breaks and has been laying on the snide comments heavily this week. One comment about me was made to our professor. Nice and nothing unprofessional or inappropriate about that, at all.

On Tuesday I decided to leave the table and sit by myself on the opposite side, and out of view, of our break area. I felt really good about my decision and very in control. Go, me!

Then, he made the comment to the professor.

Jackass.

I felt fine Tuesday night. But, then the insomnia came back that night...I am still not sleeping great, but the full-on insomnia has been gone since the end of October. Then the emotions came on Wednesday. Verge of tears, stomach in fiery knots, could not concentrate...so I made an emergency appointment with my therapist.

We met, we talked, she set-up an appointment with a doctor for a med consult and also set-up an appointment for me to meet with the rape crisis counselor on campus to see what can be done with BJ in terms of keeping him away from me.

Wednesday I got two prescriptions: one for anxiety, one for sleep. Both can be taken sporadically and as I see fit. So, not everyday.

Yesterday, I felt really great, but completely exhausted from insomnia and also the anxiety med causes drowsiness, but the meds are awesome.

I went out last night with some friends from work, which was new and nice and I had a great time.

Then this morning I received a text message from my best gal asking me "...are you okay, did something happen?"

I was great and I had no idea about anything happening. So I called her.

Last night, BJ sent out a drunk-typed email at 1:50 this morning.

I am sorry to all of you about what has happened. I admit that what I did that night was wrong. None of you should be involved in this, but you are. I find it ridiculous and juvenile that this is even taking place, but it is. Therefore, I find it necessary to apologize for the current state of affairs among us, and to hope that you will judge me for who I am; a human being. I never intended for anything to happen. I got drunk, and I did things I am not proud of. However, for this to go on for more than three months is unacceptable. What happens happens, and you are not the ones that should deal with it.

I am not and do not pretend to be a perfect or even good person sometimes. But I, and you, do not deserve this.

Here's the thing: the group has no idea what is going on. They know I do not want to be around him, but they do not know why. Also, he never states that it is me, that he is talking about..so, slightly confusing. But more importantly, the group did not know what happened. Congrats, BJ, you just outed yourself.

I called the other male in our group (Matt) to ask him what brought this about. Matt and I talked and he (Matt) (and I am sure, BJ) felt that it was because of me that we all don't hang-out anymore and that I should just forget about the whole thing and move on.

I explained that us not all hanging out anymore, has nothing to do with me. We all have different lives than we did this time last year. The only person who knew what is/was going on is my best gal, as she was the only one who knew until Tuesday, when I told another friend. Any animosity amongst us, has nothing to do with me.
I also asked Matt how he would feel if this had happened to his sister. He changed his tune about the "forget and move on." I think I got through to him with that comment and we ended (I think) on a good note.

After many emails being exchanged today between BJ and my best gal (she sticking up for me, him still not getting it) (me wanting to send my own email, but resisting) which were forwarded to me.

Today I had my regular appointment with my therapist and then my appointment with the crisis counselor.

Short story long, I am giving myself the weekend to think about it, but I am 100% sure that on Monday I will issue a no contact order against BJ.

I can determine how I want it to be worded. I can have him removed from classes and I can have myself removed from classes, but (as of now) I have decided not to do that. I am asking (as of now) that he just stay X amount of feet way from me when we are not in class and should we run into each other outside of school. He is not to make eye contact or speak to me, no more snide comments, if I am with the group, he is not to join us, and if he is with the group, then I will not join them. The decscion of remaining in classes, he is finished with classes in December. I only have two weeks of classes left after we return from Turkey Break.

More importantly, come comprehensive exam time, I will get an accommodation to take the exams separately from everyone else. I don't want months of therapy progress to go down the drain on the most stressful day of my life, ya know?

As of now, I do not think I will tell any of my friends what actions I took (will be taking). I just don't want any of them to know, this might change. Oh, and he is not allowed to talk about it.

Pretty basic, really, but I feel so proud of myself. Taking control and taking action is hard and emotional and I am sure on Monday I will be all over the place emotionally (and on Tuesday when I meet for 2 hours with my therapist to talk about the actual events of the rapes)...so yeah, a break will be good. I need it. Thank goodness for meds and therapy. The massage I had scheduled today would have been amazing also, but I was 30 minutes late due to the above. So, yeah. A hot shower, my pajamas, and a good meal and perhaps a good beer will just have to do for tonight.

just askin'

2008-11-18T11:32:00.001-06:00

Do you ever watch yourself writing something and wonder, "huh, how does my hand now how to do that? How is my hand able to write so dang fast? How can I think these thoughts while still writing out something so dang fast?"

No? Okay then.

Much like the Tin Man

2008-11-14T17:49:00.003-06:00

Today I discovered I have a heart.

Yes, I know, der, right?

Yes, I know I have a heart, cause, I'm not dead and I have a pulse. But I mean, I have a heart and it's okay to listen to it. It's okay to make emotional decisions, it's okay to let people in and have control over my heart.

My heart.
I have one.

Sad that I just realized this today. (thanks, therapy!)
Amazing that I did not realize this before today.
Smiling with glee that I know it now and that I will never forget it.
It's okay to love. It's okay to be in control of my heart. It's okay.

Oh, the things I don't know and I don't even know that I don't know them.

I'll make it. One obstacle at a time, I'll make it.

2008-11-14T00:19:00.004-06:00

So, remember the guy who told me I was fat, my life goals were a joke and then stuck his hand in my crotch and his tongue down my throat and begged me for sex? Also known as the direct result of me being in therapy?

Well, I told him to leave me alone back in September. Unfortunately, I have to see him on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which is when we have classes. I have done my best to ignore him, but he has made it as difficult as he possible can.

For several reasons I have wanted to confront him, but at the same time, I did not want to give him any reason to talk to me. Hard to do. Well, the other day he sent an email asking if I was still mad at him. This was my opportunity to end all contact and to say (once again) exactly how I felt.

I'm not a huge fan of emails or IM's being shared. However, just to show you what I am dealing with on a weekly basis, here you go.

My email to him:

As I stated at T's in September, that night at L, you hurt and offended me deeply. What you said and did to me is unforgivable. Your actions that night, were, and still are, deeply troubling. I have not, I will not, forgive you.

That night at the L, your actions were that of an assailant. You assaulted me, BJ. To refresh your memory: hand in my crotch, tongue shoved down my throat, begging me for sex. None of which were wanted. There is no other way to say what your actions were that night. I was attacked not only verbally, but physically; unforgivable. Deeply troubling. Why would I want anything to do with you? I don't.

Your comments that night were hurtful and not something that a "friend" would say to me. Just to refresh your memory: I am fat, and my life goals are a waste of time and unattainable.

To be clear: I want nothing to do with you. I do not want to talk to you, I do not want you to talk to me. I do not want to be around you.

In regards to us as a group: you are still throwing back-handed comments around and you are still making comments which are hurtful to all of us. Both of which shows me that you have not changed at all. Nor do you care to change. You need help, BJ. I suggest you get some.

Again, to be clear: I want nothing to do with you. Nothing at all.

Do not respond to this email.

Direct, to the point, crystal clear.

His response to me:

I understand that I have hurt you and that you are angry. I have apologized for my boorish behavior and I accept that you are committed to never forgive me. I understand that. On those evenings I crossed a line that can never be uncrossed. However, I was drunk; whats your excuse? In the time I have known you, you have proven to me that you are self centered, short sighted, narrow visioned, hyper sensitive to any form of critique or questioning, irrational, and incapable of compassion or forgiveness. Before you point fingers as to who needs help, it would take a good long look in the mirror and consider how you deal with others. It amazes me that someone who is 34 years old can behave this way; much the same as one would expect of a Junior High School student. The reply that you sent to my email, just proves to me that you are not worthy of knowing. If I were a better person, maybe I would care to repair this, but the fact of the matter is I don't believe that anyone has the emotional energy to try and deal with you. As far as I am concerned, what happened is over and done, and you are out of my life as you have made overwhelmingly evident that I am out of yours. I am sorry that it took me so long to realize who you are. Get help. I considered this bridge burned and I hope that beyond whatever obligations I have left concerning school that I never see you again, or have the displeasure to share company with anyone as remotely as boorish as yourself. Good luck in your future endeavors, and I am truly sorry that I was ever duped into considering you a friend. You obviously only use that word when its convenient for you.

I consider this issue dead. Continue to hate, if that is what makes you happy.

Nice, huh?

My initial response, I laughed and I do not believe a word of it. The comments to my character, laughable and completely false. The day before he was still trying to be my friend. Given a day to simmer over the email I sent along with some liquid courage, this is what I got. The fact that he blames everything on being drunk, wow, troubling. Given that he is either drunk or hung-over, he has a lot of excuses.

Anyway.

There are many reasons why his actions that night sent me back to a time when I was a very lost teenager and sent me into therapy.

One, the comment on my weight. As every female does, I ebb and I flow. However, after each rape I very consciously gained weight to keep the men away. It was deliberate and I am and was well aware of what I was doing.
I then lost the weight after a few years. However, one night, when I was around 19, I was out at my favorite bar and a man walked past me and deliberately stuck his hand between my legs as I walking through the crowd. I cannot describe what that did to me emotionally. Psychologically, I thought "I need to gain more weight..." and I did. Between 18-20 I gained about 45 pounds. At 21 I lost all of it and then some.

After the rape at 23, I slowly, but steadily gained more weight, all in the name of not wanting any unwanted male attention. I gained around 100 pounds between 23-29. I've lost most of the weight which was gained, but still struggle with my weight and the attention that losing and gaining can bring. I also struggle with the same 20 pounds over and over again. I know the reasons why and it is one of the things I am working on. However, the number on the scale never has, and never will, determine my self-worth. For whatever reason, I have always had high self-esteem. I know, it is an oxymoron and does not make a lick of sense, just trust me on this one.

So, BJ's actions that night took me back 17 years, half a lifetime ago. The comment about my weight, if only he knew why I struggle and the connection between weight and wanting to keep men like him away.
He doesn't know what he did and he never will. Am I blaming him for 17 years of issues, no. Absolutely not. He's an ass. I've known he was an ass, I've always thought he was an ass. Had I been back in home city, I never would have had anything to do with him. However, new city, no friends, I was trying to make connections. Lesson learned.
Am I calling him a rapist, no. He attacked me, verbally and physically in a way that was not wanted, his actions took me back to being raped, but he did not rape me. Attacked, yes.

So, twice a week for several hours a night I am forced to be in a room with my attacker. I am forced to be in a room with someone who would send that kind of hateful and rage filled email to. Merely one of the things I am dealing with while also trying to make it out of bed and into work and class each day in order to graduate and fulfill my life goals. Because they are not pointless and they are attainable. I'll succeed, I know I will. Obstacles are just placed there to be jumped over and to prove that I can make it over them. I just need to remember this.

a quick hello

2008-11-10T22:38:00.002-06:00

Just a quick, what's been going on in my life, update.

Turkey Break will be in less than two weeks and gosh, am I looking forward to it.

However, since I plan to boycott my computer during that time and I have a few papers due immediately upon my return from Turkey Break, I have to do some serious ass hauling on the paper and homework front between now and the next less-than two weeks. (yes, that is a run-on.)

How serious? This semester I have 19 papers due. I've finished five.
Just in case your math skills are like mine, I'll clarify: yeah, that's not good.

One of those papers is my HUGE research paper (not a thesis, but it might as well be and we have a semester to come up a subject and complete it) which I have hit a wall on. I need to change my paper a smidge (perhaps more than a smidge.) I was going to write about U.S. birth control policy 1850-Present; does policy affect society, or does society affect policy, but think I am going to change it to 1850-1900 and just touch on the last 100+ years. Not happy about that, but I do not think I have much choice in the matter. Too big, and too short of time to finish it. Technically I have until March. Actually, I want to finish by December.

On a personal front: not dating anyone. September and October I was dating three people. I no longer am. Sure the holidays are approaching and it would be nice, but let's be honest, why is it nice just to have someone around the holidays? It's not. It's nice to have a special someone all the time.

I am also done with the "someones" and looking for "the one."

On a therapy front: It is going very well. It has been very emotional and frustrating. It has affected my friendship with my best gal, but I think that rough patch is over.
Everything I thought I knew about myself, has turned out to be wrong.
All the reasons I thought I did something, nope, not so much. All those reasons were wrong.
So, that realization has affected who I thought I was. The reasons for my past failed relationships, the reasons for me being in grad school, my undergrad education, my extreme need for privacy, why I put my guard up, why I am guarded...all of it and so much more and I am sure even more that I have no idea about...all have, are, and will continue to become clear.

So, yes, it has been wonderfully gratifying to talk about everything, but incredibly emotional and heartbreaking.

Yet, I feel calm. Very calm. And strong. And maybe even a little brave. But, I'm not sure about that one yet. That one I will have to think about a little bit longer.

In the last two weeks everything has been back in technicolor. I am back to my old-self. Well, my old-self that is now my new-self, and best of all, I am sleeping better. Better, but not perfect. However, I will take better. And that better is without sleeping pills, which makes it perfect.

a thought

2008-11-05T12:51:00.001-06:00

this was forwarded to me, but thought it was something worth sharing:

Rosa sat so Martin could walk,

Martin walked so Barack could run,

Barack ran so our children could fly.

on this election night

2008-11-04T22:20:00.000-06:00

I am very proud to be an American.

On Tuesday

2008-11-03T20:36:00.002-06:00

Get your ass to the poles.

...and I don't mean the ones at the North or South ends of the Earth.

I mean the one with a ballot and a box and a curtain.
Hankie and pankie are not included.

Now. Go vote.

Then you can enjoy this
You Tube video. Or you can enjoy it now. Your choice. Much as it is at the ballot and the box. Your choice. No, really. Totally up to you. Don't be a sheep. Bah.

inner dork: randomness

2008-10-30T12:26:00.002-05:00

EBay was first used as an Internet site to buy and sell Pez dispensers.

Rocky Road ice cream was invented in 1929 to reflect the troubled times ahead.

Next to humans, elephants have the longest lifespan.

John Paul II eliminated the position of Devil's Advocate, which was originally used to argue against sainthood.

Mel Blank, the name of Porky Pig, has the words "That's all folks" written on his gravestone.

JFK, who graduated 64th out of 112 in his high school class, was voted "most likely to succeed."

That's all. It's a short and sweet dorking today. Or, what is a quickie.

just a quick, hells ya, post

2008-10-29T21:24:00.002-05:00

Whoa, what is this with so many posts in so many days. Must. Slow. Down.

....Anyway.

The scores for the CBA exam were posted today.

Turns out I passed.

Barely, but I'm counting it.

I friggin passed.

Which means I am still friggin in grad school.

Yep. I had made up my mind that if I did as bad as I was certain that I did, I was dropping the class this weekend/first of next week.

Eh, they're still stuck with me.

Funk is WAY over.

Let's hope it stays that way.

a new day

2008-10-28T11:37:00.002-05:00

So I think I might be out of my funk.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Please god, let it be gone.

I'm still not sleeping that great. And even with 100mg of sleeping pills, I am not always falling asleep or sleeping through the night. Yes, it is nerve racking and irritating, mind numbing, frustrating and any other word you want to add an 'ing' to.

I've figured a lot of things out. Made a lot of connections. Put a lot of things together. Even though it can be heart wrenching, at the same time its incredibly rewarding, amazing, and makes me feel like I'm not nuts. So. Those are good things.

That's it really. My world is in technicolor today. It's pretty cool.

a bright sunny day

2008-10-27T14:46:00.005-05:00

So after another brain-knocking-around-in-my-head, therapy session I decided to change my weekend schedule and try to figure some things out.

Friday: a bruise inducing massage session. Pain, gone. Lovely.

Saturday: Movie: "Nick and Nora's Infinite Play List" good movie, don't understand where the title comes from. Followed by a walk around downtown. Some discounted at supply shopping. A long drive on a fall day, a stop into the local bar for two beers and a greasy appetizer. A night in of DVD watching.

I figured some things out about myself, a had decent sleep (Because I bought some maximum strength sleeping pills (50mg) and I discovered last night that I need to take two of them. I don't know if I should be worried or not about that amount. But I am sleeping, so I don't know that I care.

I realized I miss live music in my life. So instead of hanging out with the gang who I cannot stand, and a male in the group who I do not want to be around, I will go to the local live music venue by myself on the weekends and just remember how much music means to me. I know, it sounds simple and probably hokey, but that's where I am at the moment.

That moment would be: trying to figure out who the hell I am, what I want to be when I grow-up, what makes me happy, and what my interests are. Because yeah, as of right now, I have no idea.

baby steps as big steps and big steps as baby steps

2008-10-23T23:08:00.003-05:00

Holy smoke! Two posts in one week, whoa, the insanity!

Okay, so I took the CBA exam. I felt really good about page one. Kicking ass and taking names on page one of the exam.

Then page two came.

It kicked my ass, tore off my head, and spit down my neck and told me I was its bitch.

Yeah.

Page two sucked.

We shall see.

However, on another note:

I just had the most mature break-up in the history of PG break-ups and I was open and honest about what I wanted and how I felt. I know! I'm excited for me too.

Oh, you didn't know I was seeing anyone. Yeah, I know. That's cause I really liked this man and I didn't want to jinx it, so mum on the blog. BUT, I saved him in my phone immediately, shared him with family and friends and was open and honest about the subjects we talked about. (He is also my best gal's cousin, so he came with recommendations.) And I know those things don't seem like big deals, but they are to me. Those things are HUGE to me.

However, he is in home city and I am not. So, long distance, blechy. Plus, I don't have any money, so I cannot go to home city very often. But really, that wasn't the issue. The issue was timing. That horrible awful thing about life that we cannot help or control. You know, because life gets in the way of life and such things like dating.
He is a CPA and went into partnership with some other men last year; however, he and his partner are now leaving the firm and it has not been as simple as it should be. There may or may not be a lawsuit with the other partners. So, he has no cash flow, lots of stress, and lots and lots of stress. This does not leave a lot of time for say, me. First girl he has liked in a really, really long time. And the first girl he has felt this comfortable around, ever. (His words, but I had to share.)

So I asked what he wanted. He told me. (He would like to keep seeing me, but knows it is not possible right now.)

I told him what I wanted. (That I would like to keep seeing him, but I want him to want to see me and have time for me, not to feel like I'm an obligation and someone he has to fit in.)

It was sad calmly, rationally, and he is going to see where he is in a few months. If things are better, he will get back in touch. I left the door open that any time he wants to chat, to feel free and that a few months is a long time and there can be doubt and concern about calling someone after that amount of time, I told him not to worry, to feel free to call me.

Very mature. very big for me. I know I should be sad, but I am so proud of myself I can't stop smiling. (And yes sad. I liked him. I'm tired of this thing called dating. Enough with the interviews with cocktails, let me land the job already.)

Big steps at a baby step size at a time.

where I've been, where I am hopefully going

2008-10-22T12:41:00.002-05:00

Oh, what has happened in the last 20 days or so. And so sorry, had no idea it had been so long since the last post, where does the time go?

On a quick note, "Snow Fall at Night" has shown back-up at my door. It was returned via U.S. postman last week. It only cost me $23.00 to be returned to my hands. Where has it been? London post tried once to deliver it in July and it has been in the post back to me since then, go figure.

School: Yeah, my future will be determined by my mid-term in Cost Benefit Analysis tomorrow. I get it in class, I get it in my notes, but apparently when it comes to my homework and test time, I don't get it. I'm not the only one, I'm just the one who is doing the worst in the class. Not embarrassing at all. So if I don't do well on the mid-term I will be dropping the class which means I will not graduate which means I will be to topic of discussion among my peers. I hate that.

However, as of right now, (I am sure this will change.) I am ready for my fate, whatever it might be. And I am doing the best I can given my mental capacity right now. I am sure, I know, I will be upset if I have to drop the class, but again, I also know I am doing the best I can.

I don't know. I understand that moving to a new place takes time, but gosh, I still do hate it here. I know part of it is the age difference between me and the other students in the program, that and I don't really like most of them. Tolerate, but not like. As in, don't want to spend my time outside of class with them.

The one gal who I do get along with, I feel I rely on her way too much and I'm not comfortable with that. At all.

I haven't been going out because, well, I don't like to go out with the people in the class with me. It take more energy than it is worth. Remember what you were like at 23? Remember how annoying you found it by 30? The median age is 23. I am not 23. Also, that whole self-destructiveness I tend to have. I don't need to add copious amounts of alcohol.

This leads to therapy. I am really happy with my progress, but basically I am trying (wanting) to change a lot of things about me while at the same time realizing that a lot about me is not who or what I thought it was, or the reasons for why I do things are not why I thought I did them. It's been a rough and tough road. You know, not realizing who I am and what I thought was true isn't.

So combine the stress of school, still not sleeping, still feeling like I am in a new place, no family, only one person who I consider a close friend, dealing with 34 years of schtuff, going from perpetually perky and cynical to angry and depressed....yeah, it's been fun. Saturday night was spent in sobs. Good times. In my sobbing state I asked my best gal to come over and to be honest, I don't remember some of what I said, told, but I do know that I wasn't necessarily comfortable with it the next day. I feel vulnerable, isolated, silly (in a bad way), alone, and not at all what I am used to. I know it will change, I know it is a process. No I don't want to go on anti-depressants. That's a large part of the problem, that for all of this I haven't felt anything, didn't allow myself to feel anything. And yes, I need sleep.

So, yeah. That's where I am.

the artist that is I

2008-10-02T21:02:00.015-05:00

...or what I love doing and wish I could do all day while the funding for paints, canvases, and the creativity are flowing altogether. I don't care if you like them, cause I do. (so there.)

This was a birthday present to my Mama in April: "A New Day"

This was the painting sent to London, which was lost in the mail (not bitter) "Snow Falling at Night"

just to show how much painting/texture was on the canvas. (It was pretty damn cool, if I do say.) (And I just did.)

What was before: (Took a lot of time and I hated it.)

What was after four paintings over of what was:...I don't remember the title and I'm too lazy to look behind the painting at the moment. Painted over the painting weekend.

Twister: (also has a lot of texture that is lost in a picture.)

This will a series of three. This is a "morning" painting called "Morning Glory" as in, what's the story...painted as part of the weekend series.

This will be the other two...when I'm happy with them, which is not now.
An afternoon and an evening painting. Part of the painting weekend.

Untitled and I started this in Spring of 2007, finished it this past spring.

"Love Thy Self" painted over the weekend.

"Imprints" or what is my left hand, also, painted over the weekend.

inner dork: contraceptive through the ages

2008-10-02T11:36:00.002-05:00

Did you know...

The earliest known illustration of a man using a condom is 12-15,000 years old and the illustration can be seen on a cave in France.
(I would really like to see this illustration. I mean, how is this depiction illustrated?)

The oldest condoms were found in the foundations of Dudley Castle in England. They were made of animal gut and date from 1640.
(Was the sperm that old, or the animal gut?)

Dating from 1850 BCE, in ancient Egypt, recipes for barrier methods of birth control were buried with the dead to prevent unintended pregnancies in the afterlife.
Spermicides included: honey, sodium carbonate, and crocodile dung.
(Can you imagine the croc dung and the aftereffects of using dung as birth control? Say the smell? The ooze?...okay, I'll stop there.)

By 1550 BCE Egyptian women used cotton-lint tampons soaked in the fermented juice of acacia plants to prevent pregnancy.

By the first century, women in India were using rock salt soaked in oil for birth control. Other methods included honey, clarified butter, and palasha tree seeds, as well as elephant dung and water.
(Again with the smell and ooze.)

Casanova takes credit for inventing the diaphragm. He would use the halves of squeezed lemons and place it over the cervix.

However, Greeks used pomegranate halves as diaphragms.
(Take that Casanova.)

Methods used for sponges: tissue paper, beeswax, rubber, wool, pepper (ouch!), seeds, silver, tree roots, rock salt, fruits, vegetables (Hmm, which ones?), and balls of opium (I'm sure it numbed the cervix, or maybe the sperm, but that's probably about it.)

AND finally, Lysol was originally marketed as a vaginal douche to use after intercourse.
(Yes, there was internal damage, infection, and even deaths.)
(Cannot even begin to image the pain and desperation.)

Oh, and 7-UP was also used as a vaginal douche to prevent pregnancy.
(Sweet and bubbly.)

Thank god for the 21 century and the access to information.

a jumble full of mess

2008-10-01T16:41:00.003-05:00

Hmmmm, so much has happened, but no idea where to start.

Therapy is going well. My therapist has the ability to say a word or a sentence that has the power to knock the breath out of me and rattle my brain around in its cage. This is a good thing, just makes for a quiet and introspective rest of my day.

With my last post and the weekend of my migraine and mass painting adventure, I discovered that I never loved myself. Now, had someone pointed that out to me, I would have fought tooth and nail against that claim, but I found it out for myself. Sad, but true. Liked myself a whole lot....or maybe that isn't even true...just didn't love me. I am working on this. I've already made progress in this area.

On a side note: I have self-esteem that I should not have. How I can have high self-esteem without loving myself, don't know, but I do.
I think.

I have slept four nights in a row...and taken a long nap. This is exciting news. (please let this become a trend.)

I'm not sure I will graduate with an MPP degree.
I'm not sure I want to.
I'm not entirely sure I'm supposed to be here.
My therapist thinks I am supposed to be here.
"Here" is college. Grad school more specifically.

Why don't I think I will graduate: Cost-Benefit Analysis. Heavy on the math, heavier on the econ. Not good for PG. Not good at all.
Now, I always did well in my undergrad math classes and here's why: lots and lots of tutoring help. Like, 8 hours a week, help.
But, I also don't know that I want to graduate. I don't want to give-up or quit. No, no, no. I would finish out my two years, but no degree.

I've met with my advisor, talked with the professor of CBA, talked with a few other people and I'm still looking at my options. I've asked what the difference will be between a masters vs no masters, but two years of study towards a masters with almost 20+ years of work experience. No one can seem to answer this question. They all think it's a great question, but no one can seem to answer it. I am still on my pursuit of this information.

Why all of this matters and is making me even more introspective than before: because my therapist said one of her knock the wind out of me comments which was (to paraphrase) that given everything I've been through I might not even know who I really am.

Ummmmmmm.

Yeah.

This had already occurred to me over the summer. Little things here and there that I was realizing about little ol me. So given all of the schtuff from the summer, plus this fall, plus me and how I feel towards school, maybe I chose wrong. (Think Indiana Jones when he picks the Holy Grail)

I dunnno.
Just some thoughts going through the head of me.
I'm sure there will be more...many more...to come. (Thoughts, that is.) (Or, thoughts that are.)

In the meantime, I'm having a really hard time caring. Not about life, no, no, no, about school. I really just want to work on me and take care of me. I've put that off for so long and now I'm finally ready to dive head first into all of it and well, there's all that school crap coming into play.

Oh, and given the fact that I hate one of my prof, that is not helping. (He made my best gal cry in his office and I worked up quite the fire in me giving my presentation in front of my peers over my subject matter that I will be writing my research paper on. Something about him rolling his eyes at me and giving me a hard time about the subject (birth control and U.S. Policy 1850-to present) even though everything on the outline is what he told me to include.) Yeah, I was a bit testy and "fiery" to use my peers terms. I.had.taken.enough.shit. I stopped my presentation and asked him why he was rolling his eyes at me. Yep.

That was a tad whiny. I apologize. Well, not really.

Anyway.

I'll hopefully post the work by me, the artist, later this week.

How a migraine can prove beneficial

2008-09-21T12:07:00.002-05:00

...it kept me quiet and inside this weekend, which lead to me watching mindless TV on Friday. Friday night, horrible sleep. The OTC, not great.

Saturday, or the day after the migraine, which it always takes me two days to recover, I fluctuated between wanting to throw-up and being ravenously hungry, (which one will win the battle????) I also had a really strong urge to paint.

Off to the art store. Purchasing several small canvases and new paint colors later, I spent yesterday with paint on my hands, fingernails, and a few splotches on my forearms, all in the name of creativity. However, the quite time also made me realize and remember some more things. It was good, productive quiet time.

Due to the migraine I canceled my plans last night and spent another night watching mindless movies and still painting....well into the early morning.

I tried the sleeping pills again, I took them WELL in advance of going to bed (several hours in advance) so when I went to bed after 2, I fell fast asleep and slept all night. One pee break, otherwise a full night of 8 hours of sleep...with another hour trying for a ninth..no such luck.
However, I slept so soundly that I have a kink in my neck, but truly, ask me if I care. (Hells no.)

Today will be spent finishing the many paintings I started yesterday, watching mindless TV, and hitting the books...sometime...today.

This is said without any sarcasm what-so-ever (brace yourself) even with the migraine, the day-after effects of a migraine, and a kink in my neck, this was one of the best weekends I've had in a very, very long time.

the therapy begins

2008-09-19T17:49:00.002-05:00

Today I met with my therapist. I think I'm going to really like her and the sessions will prove beneficial.
Good news, the sessions are "free." The reason for the quotes? Well, they are not really free, they are part of my student health fee, so I would be paying for them whether I was using the services are not. So, I plan to take full advantage of the free-ness.
I just hope I am "cured" by May. That's when I graduate. And those quotes are because, are we ever cured? Doubtful.

I've already had a few mini-little-breakthroughs. Actually, that's not the right word, perhaps connections is a better word, as to why I do what I do. Which is comforting.

She told me today that we will work towards discussing the rapes and she will push me in that direction. I thanked her for that. I confessed that I'm pretty good at talking about everything but whatever the problem might be.

I have a standing Friday morning appointment with her for the semester. That alone I find comforting.

Unfortunately, the migraine I've felt coming on all week, finally made head-fall today. So, today was beneficial, productive, and then came to a crashing halt.

On the insomnia front: After having a whiwind of emotions yesterday, ranging from silliness, happiness, breathing after my CBA test, and then running head-first into anger, the night ended in another night of not sleeping (falling asleep a little after 3 and waking-up at 7:30.) So, this morning I bought some different over-the-counter sleeping pills. I will try them tonight. Here's desperately hoping they work. I bought them before my session this morning. My therapist told me if they don't work, I really need to consider a prescription. Yeah, I agree. The insomnia is beyond ridiculous. Not to mention: not productive, adding fuel to the emotional fire, and effecting other aspects of my life. Enough already.

So, just a short update on the progress that will commence henceforth.

Polaroid snapshots

2008-09-16T19:24:00.005-05:00

So, why is alcohol an upper until it becomes a downer? There are the obvious reasons; the hangover, the cry-fest, the drama and the trauma that could and would be otherwise avoided if it wasn't for the fermented cocktails and beverages...and I'm sure so many other reasons. However, for me, it's all about a fateful Saturday night a little over a week ago. Did anything tragic or traumatic happen in the world, that depends on how you look at it.

A little background:

I had spent most of August sitting by my pool by day and drinking with my guy friends at night. Insomnia was still a beast I could not conquer, so there was little to no sleep happening as well. Basically everyday that was the story. There was a nine day in-a-row streak of drinking every night. Not a big deal until you factor in what was going on with me psychologically and emotionally. Mix it altogether and it was a potent cocktail that did not need to be shaken or stirred.

What was the cocktail?
Equal parts:
* I never cried over the stress, disappointment, and frustration that was Brazil.
* I did not want to return to Small State U city, because I hate it here and I do not feel like I fit in with any of the other students.
* I want to smack most of the other students just about everyday because I cannot identify with them. I blame it on age. There's, not mine.
* My best gal and I were on the outs. Also known as the only person I felt close to here in City I Hate and Program I Stress Over.
* I had shared my feeling with her a few times over the summer in terms of me worrying that we were drifting apart and I didn't feel she took it seriously. Why was this a big deal? Because just about every time I have ever had the courage to tell someone how I feel about something, in terms of relationships whether they are lovers or friends I am almost always ignored and what I worried and tried to prevent from happening through conversation, then comes to fruition.
*Being the gal to go out and drink with, but not feeling important enough to do anything beyond getting drunk with.
* Still being bombarded on a daily basis with memories I had tried to forget, had forgotten, and epiphanies that I was thankful for, but could not handle on my own.
*Feeling lonely and out of place for the first time in my life.
* Fucktard telling me the things he did. (Short recap: sexy, but need to lose weight, my life goal is pointless. Beautiful, but... Sticking his tongue down my throat and a hand in my crotch...both not welcomed or appreciated..and on and on
* Oh, and more days of no sleep than with sleep.
* Self-doubt a constant plague in terms of grad school.
..and on and on. (Truly depressing.)

In August I discovered I have self-destructive tendencies. No, duh, right? Sure, but I was ready to throw it all out and throw it all away and fuck the consequences. I was ready to sleep with my married guy-friend, end my friendship with my best gal, drink my way into oblivion and smoke as much pot as I did when I was 21 (Or what is all of Mexico.) because, fuck everyone, I need no one. (Another thing I am famous for.) The self-determination, or stupidity, that I need no one in this world but me and only me. Fuck-ya-all. (This is said to myself, not out loud or to anyone at all, just all said in my head in a very self-determined sort of way.) (Cause, that makes it seem less crazy and much more healthy.)

My best gal and I patched things up one night outside a bar. I was very thankful and it was a turning point.

A turning point into a very deep depression and sadness.

Here's the cocktail of reasons:
* My best gal, after only dating one other person in her life (which happened last year at the age of 24) met someone over the summer and she is ridiculously happy, and I am happy for her. But. I am also sad. Really, 25, dated two people, and you're done? What-the-fuck-ever.
* Epiphanies, epiphanies, epiphanies.
* Memories, memories, memories.
* Stories, times, relationships, ugliness that no one...no one...should have to endure all came rushing back to me.

Imagine your life coming back to you. Things from your past that you thought were over, done, dealt with. Memories that had been shoved and stored away are slowing, one-by-one being pulled out of their shoebox and shown back to you in a Polaroid snapshot. That's what this summer has been for me. Random flashes of my forgotten past.

Memories in the form of:
Verbal and emotional abuse from my father. (Things said, things done, fights, words, yelling, screaming.)
Verbal, emotional, and physical abuse from my first boyfriend at 16 and a guy who was supposed to be my best friend at the same age. (One day I remembered that the "friend" had tried to suffocate me. I was lying down and out of nowhere he just put his hand over my mouth and nose. The reason? To see how I would react.) (So, so many mind games they played. So, so much betrayal.)
More friends than I can count or remember who left, betrayed, lied, cheated, and simply did not care about me, how I felt, what I said, or friendships I was trying to save.
Being raped at 17 and 23.
The consequences and ramifications of both rapes that followed and still do.
So many throw-away relationships and I was the one being thrown away and letting myself be thrown away, because I didn't care. I was just out to have fun. So, who cared.
(It's depressing just to type out and read back to myself.)

Which led to the feeling of: For the first time in my life wanting love from a man. Not sex, or a fling, or a distraction, but really wanting to be wanted, loved, from someone, not just anyone.

....Sadness swept over me.
Depression kept me in bed.

Which all lead to:
A little over a week ago, after spending all day in bed, I went out with friends to celebrate one of their birthdays. I did not want to go, but knew it was the right thing to do.
I drank, and I drank, and I drank. Not cocktails, but shots.
I. Did. Not. Care.
And worse, I was not getting drunk, I was only getting more sad. All kept neatly tucked inside. Laughing and having a fabulous time buying drinks for the birthday boy and being sociable with everyone, but inside wanting to go home and be alone.
At one point I went outside where some of the group was sitting and I tried to talk to them, tried to interject, I felt completely invalid.
Back inside the bar.
Fucktard who put me down a week before, asked me what was wrong as I was being distant from him. In a very calm and direct manner I told him what was wrong, how he talked to me, how I was not going to put up with it and I had put up with it enough in my life and I was not going to do it anymore. I had been through enough. I was mad at him, but more so, I was mad at myself. At this point I was not going to be his friend anymore. This conversation happened as I was about to leave with my best gal. (Her driving)

Which lead to: (are you still with me?)
In the car, with best gal driving, I lost it. Tears, emotions, feelings, words it all came pouring out. I thought it just had to do with that night, but I am pretty sure that random Saturday was nothing more than an outlet for the past 34 years. Thirty-four years of crap. Thirty-four years of crap, put-up-with-ness, letting things slide, not wanting to deal with them at the time and so now they are all coming back to me. The past and the present all colliding into my future and it's a mess. Not to mention ridiculously inconvenient timing. Really? Grad school? Not the best time to try and deal with shit, ya know?

So, after thinking about it, I've decided I need to seek counseling and therapy and really deal with my past. Not sugar-coat it and say I want to talk about it, but then never bring it up. No, it's time. I'm tired. I'm tired of the same self-destructive tendencies and the only person who is left in the end is me. I'm done. I'm tired of my past dictating my future. It's time to deal and then move on. I know I've said this before, and I am better at breaking bad habits and such, but I need to really dig down into the ugliness and delve into the deep end of the emotional fucked-up pool. I'm done. It's time for love, no more distractions.

alcohol

2008-09-14T22:42:00.001-05:00

It's an upper, until it becomes a downer.

you go in for a massage...

2008-09-12T13:01:00.003-05:00

feel completely re-energized, realize throughout the day that your slowly being covered in bruises, go to bed, sleep great, wake-up with more bruises. My ass and hips look like I sat on a bunch of raspberries. My right thigh is one big bruise. Two small bruises above each boob, one small one on each arm. But, totally worth it.

I've had a lot of massages, the fluff and stuff, the found a kink, worked it out kind, but yesterday I found a gal who when I said, "I want a deep tissue massage, full of elbows, and here's where it hurts." ...and she actually listened. Truly, I felt like I was on speed all day my body, besides the bruises, feels amazing.

On another note: Follow-up date tonight with the 26 year-old. Does that make me a cougar? I don't think it does, but you all would probably know more than me. Grrr. Bruises are hot, right?
However, thinking this one has a shelf-life. It may be expiring tonight. Could be wrong. He's 26 after all and talks like he's 26. Odd. I look forward to the day when there is no shelf-life, or at the very least, not feel like there is one.
Someday.

Just sayin'

2008-09-05T09:28:00.002-05:00

VH1 actually plays music!

Although this discovery happened at 3:31 in the a.m. I am sure the music channel will resume showing music videos during regular business hours any day now.

Sure of it.

inner dork: so that's where it came from

2008-09-04T11:42:00.003-05:00

Ever wonder how phrases become part of our lexicon? You don't? Well I do.

Did you know:

The reason we call letters upper case and lower case is because printers kept (keep)capital letters in the upper case drawers and small letters are kept in the lower case drawers.

Honeymoon comes from the Babylonian era (say, 4,000 years ago) when it was customary for a father-in-law to give his new son-in-law a months worth of mead, a honey-based beer, during a calendar month, which was based on a lunar schedule.

Wetting your whistle comes from English pubs where a whistle was baked into the handle of a mug. When a customer wanted another beverage, they would whistle to the bartender.

Raining cats and dogs comes from the Middle Ages when a thatched roof was common. Animals and vermin would crawl into the thatch, but would often fall through the thatch. This is also where canopy beds come from, the better to protect the sleeper from falling vermin.

The reason the first novels are so dang long is because authors were paid per word, not per book. Ala, the longer the book, the bigger the paycheck. Hence, all those adjectives. Also, the reason for serial novels, all the better to keep the income coming in.

Minding your P's and Q's, this has a lot of variations, but the most common one is that it was bar lingo, for pints and quarts.

That concludes today uselessness.

On a side note: posts three days in a row?!?!?!!? Way to go PG!

I'm trying, okay?

2008-09-03T13:16:00.003-05:00

So, last night I went out on a date.

The date went well. Lots of conversation, lots of laughs, provided by me, of course. I mean, I am hilarious. Just fyi.
Oh, and an insistence, by him, that I sing along to "Ice, Ice Baby" in his car. I, of course, obliged without much forethought or worry of embarrassing myself. He did not sing along.
I harassed him about that.

I'm sure there will be a follow-up of a second date. I'm working on getting past my first date dismissing technique. (Old habits.)

I ended the date around 12:30 claiming I had a big day of homework ahead of me. Although true, the real truth is that I was sitting with a lovely gentleman, but wishing I was sitting with someone else.

I know, I know. (repeat a million-thousand more times.)

But when your sitting across from someone and wishing it was someone else, is that fair to either person? Um, no.

When there are lapses as to what the person's name is, because you want to call them London, yeah, probably not good.

So, even though the date went very well, I found myself coming home very sad. Sad and mad at myself. (This seems to be a theme as of late.) (I'm working on getting a knew theme.) (Perhaps a theme song??)

Maybe it's because London was supposed to come and visit me this past weekend, planned since March, but the trip had to be postponed. And although I knew (KNEW) it would not workout because this is the third time in less than a year where it has not worked out, still, in the back of my head I had hoped. (I mean, c'mon.)
So, maybe that's why I was sad. That and all the bullshit from this past weekend with Fucktard and his comments, maybe all that combined made me sad last night.

Maybe.

Although during my bathroom breaks, I did tell myself in the mirror I am awesome, hot, and anyone would be lucky to date me. (Affirmations are the key to success.) (Just don't say them aloud, cause then you're seen as crazy and the other girls in the bathroom will tell their friends about you and they will point and laugh.) (Just fyi.)

I know part of the problem is that we never saw (London and I)(and still haven't seen) the worst of each other. It makes it easy to think two people should be together when you still believe the other person is perfect (or at the very least is virtually flawless) when you haven't seen (or had to put up with) someones flaws.

It's ridiculous, I know.
I feel slightly (or a little more than) pathetic about the whole thing.

I'm working on it, okay?

random thoughts

2008-09-02T13:31:00.004-05:00

I know, I haven't done very well at the "I will try to post everyday" promise. Although, if you count "try" then I have done well, you just aren't aware of it.

Anyway, I don't know if there is anything to report on the life of little 'ol me or not. There is a lot of randomness, so, randomness is what I will write about.

Classes started last week. Nothing to exciting there, except that no professor knows how to say my name and I have to repeat it several times in a row before they even get close to not butchering it. PAR-tee Girl. Say it with me. Say it with me at least 4 times.

Good, Professor.

This semester will be heavy on the papers. Lots of dead trees. I am taking 13 credits.

Nine credits is full time.

I went out nine days in a row. On the tenth day my liver rebelled against me.

I'm not sleeping. You know, something new and different.

I apologize for reading, but not commenting on all of your posts as of late.

I have the prospect of a date tonight.

Let's hope it goes well.

As a result of all my epiphanies from the summer I am still learning more about myself each day.

It has been an emotional and in many ways, sad journey. Oh, the thoughts I have forgotten to think and the memories I was successful at forgetting all come rushing back.

I'm not saying I have been sitting in a corner rocking back and forth, just saying I'm glad I've had a month to myself.

London emailed to say, after an official inquiry by the Royal Post Office, my painting is lost.

Poop stain.

In watching my best gal with her boyfriend it made me very sad. I realized over this past weekend that the reason why is because I miss that feeling. Particularly the feeling I had for London. Time to move on, I know this, but a person cannot always control their feelings.

Even though I practice female control and taking control over emotional, mentally, and physical abuse from their partners, I find I make excuses for people when they are verbally abusing me.

For example, a male who is in the MPP program says he is just being honest, but in reality he is just being down right mean. (I know that sounds very kindergarten-ish, but it's true) After confronting him, again, about this fact over the weekend, I was, once again, blasted by his "honesty."

This honesty contained comments about how sexy and beautiful I am, but apparently I am fat and need to lose weight.
I'm stuck-up.
My life goal, although admirable, is ridiculous and will never be fulfilled.
Walking out the backdoor of the bar and having him grab me and stick his tongue down my throat.
Being persistently asked to have sex with him.

My responses included:
the number on the scale does not dictate my self worth. (Fucktard.)
I am incredibly sexy regardless of the number on the scale.
Just because I do not wish to smell your farts or your belches does not mean I am stuck-up. You're an imbecile.
If I change one life, then I have changed the world.
Screaming, repeatedly, that I do not, nor will I, make out with him, nor have sex with him.

My excuses for him have been, that it's just Fucktard, and he is only like this when he drinks.
A fucktard is a fucktard regardless of the reasons behind it.
No more. I'm done.

Unfortunately, we are a group, we have classes, breaks, and we go out as a group every Thursday. Sadly, I may have to isolate myself in order to avoid him.

Yes, he is a fucktard.
Yes, it is easy to make excuses and fall into old habits. I realize this, I hate this, it will change as of right now.

Thanks to my apartment pool I have an awesome tan.

Thanks to going out nine days in a row all of my healthy eating has been contradicted.

Oh, well.

I've realized that when someone matters to me I am willing to fight for it, be open, honest, and let my guard down. With some coaxing, this can be done. Hey, babysteps.

I have a date tonight.

Let's hope the date goes as well as the phone conversation did last night.

Upon my return back to Small State U City

2008-08-15T09:46:00.004-05:00

After being away all summer from my crappy-ass apartment, the thing I missed the most, aside from the freedom of living by myself, walking around naked, making a mess and not having to worry about cleaning it up, taking a shower and leaving the bathroom door open while getting soapy and wet, and living out my sexual fantasies; aside from all of that, the thing I missed most was my bed. I know, not exciting. But, after sleeping on an air mattress all summer, it loses its charm somewhere around 30 seconds into crawling into bed, my bed is pretty damn awesome right now.

Oh, and sleeping (almost) through the night. That was something that didn't happen this summer, either. That had something to do with a mother who works from home and starts her work day at 5:30 in the morning and her office is across the hall, a step-dad who hates his job and allows the alarm to go off several times, and a dog who dances outside my door with her dog tags clinking together awaiting my sleepy entrance into the hallway. Since I don't go to bed much before midnight, it made for a short night.

Since arriving back home, my apartment has rebelled against my reentry back to two-bedroom. Curtains inexplicably falling down, houseplants beyond dead, a shower head that sprays water everywhere but on me; however, I think after a few days, the ghosts of summer have left.
I have unpacked, cleaned (though not enough) redecorated my bedroom and bathroom (love the changes) Bedroom is lime, lemon, and white. Or white with lime green and lemon yellow accents. Clean, crisp, and the feel of tropical. Ah....
Bathroom, clean and simple in light blue and yellow.

Anyway...

Basically I've gone for a long walk everyday, worked on my tan, sat by my pool and been irritated by the 20 year-olds being obnoxious, gone out every night thus, counteracting my long daily walk. My guys missed me. The PG is back in town and they are determined to kill my liver. They're doing a good job.

Like the rest of the summer, this week has flown by. I start my volunteer job at the I Want to Travel Outside the Country Office next week (I really should look over the pamphlet I will be rewriting um, sometime before 9 a.m. on Monday) and I still need to find a job that will pay me; hopefully I will find one sometime before now and the end of the school year.
Still hoping for an assistantship.
...I probably shouldn't hold my breath.

Otherwise just enjoying the gorgeous weather, trying to suck every ounce out of the days before the grind of school starts on the 25th (ugh!)(Say it ain't so!) oh, and keep damaging my liver. It's good to have goals.

inner dork: wild kingdom

2008-08-07T13:45:00.002-05:00

Did you know...

There are fewer than 1,000 giant pandas left in the world.

The giant African snail grows to a foot long and reaches weights greater than a pound.

The giant flying fox, native to Indonesia, has a wingspan of nearly 6 feet.

Giant tortoises can live to be 150 years old or older.

The giant Pacific octopus can fit its entire body through an opening no bigger than the size of its beak.

The giant squid is the largest creature without a backbone. It weighs up to two and a half tons and grows up to fifty-five feet long. Each eye is a foot or more in diameter.
(Eck!)

A donkey will sink in quicksand, but a mule will not.

A single sheep's fleece can contain as many as twenty-six million fibers.

...and now you know.

I wish I had more time

2008-08-06T13:25:00.003-05:00

...to spend with friends, family, just in general people I like.

One of the things I like about this break from real life (ha!) called grad school, is that everyone has time. Time to do things, time to hang-out, go out, volunteer, be together, be stupid, has a common mission to save the world. (raises fist into the air.)

Okay, so I'm the only one who really believes the world can be changed, but still, my point is that when you hit a certain age, say 22-23, definitely by 24, your time starts to slip away. Your life is taken over by life. Life no longer consists of going out and being with friends, or at least not much past happy hour, it now consists of jobs, careers, weddings, babies, and being in bed around 10:30 to repeat it all again the next day. You know, the real world. Opposed to the one MTV presents of sex in hot tubs and going out and getting plastered every night while staying in a rent-free penthouse suite. Sure, that's just a Wednesday night for me, but I realize this is not the case for most people.

But I digress. (You know, something new and different.)

The fact that my fellow public policiers not only want to, but also have the time to go out, time to give on a Saturday to a cause, well, that's awesome and it also makes me sad. Sad, because they are 23 years old and have no idea. No idea that all of that free time will be going away. That to be busy now isn't just a nuisance, but it will be their reality in another 10 months. More than half of the students in the program came to grad school to get away from the real world. Because, "...it sucked."
Um, okay.
Yeah, it does. Deal with it.
I don't have an extra 40 grand laying around to postpone the suckatude, but apparently they do....

Anyway, this summer I've had time. For the first time in a long while, I've had time to be with friends, go to movies, and just be. I stayed an extra week at the 'rents so I could try and be with friends back in home state, go out, and relive some old times while making some new times for just one more week.

Last night Billy and I hit the local brew pub for happy hour, then went to a local live music venue to enjoy six (some good, some bad) bands. We didn't plan to stay very long.
Famous last words.
We closed it down.
We laughed, remembered, talked of old and promised to make new times together. My dearest friend whom I've know since I was 19. The friend who knows my history because he was there with me when it happened. The person I am comfortable with, can be with, not feel judged, or misunderstood. That's an awesome feeling to have. When I told him I am guarded, he laughed. He doesn't know that side of me. In the end I am glad we had the time together we did, and that I had time with all of the friends, and former co-workers, because gosh, I had no idea how much I was missed and what kind of impact I had on people...but that's another day....
Time. We could all use a little more of it, no?

rain check

2008-08-03T20:28:00.004-05:00

Rain check is a baseball term. It originated back in the 1870s and was used when a game was canceled due to a rainstorm. The audience was given tickets, free of charge, to attend a game at a later date.

Fascinating, isn't it?

After attending a baseball game today, in what had to be tropical Sub-Sahara desert like conditions, (and no, I don't care that those contradict each other) I would have liked a rain check. Hell, just some rain. Or say, even a cool breeze would have been nice. Instead, my only comfort came from the bottle of beer between my breasteses. And, gee, that's really just counterproductive. Cold-ish cleavage, warm-ish beer. It's a lose-lose really.

The tropical condition was in terms of the brick wall-like humidity that I was slammed in the face with as soon as I left the house. Not to mention the suffocating, so glad I took a shower because that was completely unnecessary since I am now drenched in sweat and why do boobs and bras just seem to be reservoirs for moisture collection? Men, do your balls have this problem? I'm guessing they do, but I would like an answer on this. The heat was in terms of the ultraviolet rays of death that were rising from the sand, er field, to create parched I-want-to-die-or-crawl-up-inside-a-camel-and-drink-from-its-hump type conditions.

Baseball, good. Wilting, withering, and dying in the sun, bad.

That concludes today's lesson.

just sayin'

2008-07-31T13:54:00.004-05:00

I believe life works out the way it is supposed to, not necessarily the way we want it to.

I think this summer I was supposed to (try) and slow down. In (trying) to slow down I have realized a helluvalot of things about myself. I've remembered a crapload of things I've (conveniently) forgotten. I've taken time to breath (although not as much as I would have liked.)I've had way too many epiphanies about myself and why I react and do the things I do. (Eye-opening and mind boggling, really.) and with this new found knowledge I hope to lead a some what (but not totally) different life.

The last few weeks have been an emotional journey of rediscovering me and leaning about who I thought I was.

I have abandonment issues.
Therefore, as soon as I feel someone is going to leave, pull away, or betray be in someway, my brick wall goes sky high. Instantly, goes sky high.
I had no idea I reacted this way, or even more importantly, how quickly I react. As in, the person can still be talking to me.

As such, I've remembered numerous walls that were built and relationships that were never allowed to happen.

As a result of the above, I go into even more of a protective mode in that I also instantly over-schedule myself. I go into "...I'll show them" mode. Meaning, I don't need them, look how busy, popular, loved, and successful I can be without them.

This, in turn, keeps me from really having to deal with the hurt feelings, or being left.
Most importantly, I always, always leave first.
Mr. London left me. He was the first. I do believe this had a HUGE frickin' impact on how I reacted and also with how I didn't react.

Another thing I discovered last night about myself: I tend not to do random acts of kindness. Meaning, I don't like to buy things, give unexpected gifts, go out of my way in a showy way.
The reason, it will go unnoticed and will not be appreciated or the act will not be taken in the way I intended.

Here, would you like an example? Okay. I made (a really fuckingly awesome) painting for Mr. London for his birthday. I mailed it in May and it was delivered on May 22. As of today, I still have not received word that he has received it.
....
He called me in June to thank him for the e-cards I sent for his birthday, I asked if he received a package, no, but he would let me know the next day, as sometimes things were delivered to the restaurant below him.
.....
yeah.
So, two snarky emails from me later, and well, apparently he either died or he is seeing someone.
...which would be where my brain goes in situations such as these...
Um, yeah.

So, I am sure there are more, but you know, that's about all I can handle in one blog posting.

Here's to Summers of Possibilities and all the surprises they hold in store.

inner dork: 10 factoids about me

2008-07-23T22:33:00.002-05:00

Yeah, I am being a bit lazy, but honestly, these little inner dorkings about me, they're sort of scary for me. I know, odd.

Anyway, here are 10 (previously unknown) things about me:

Did you know (and no, you didn't)

1) In the summer my toe nails are always painted candy-apple red.
My fingernails are rarely painted and usually go unnoticed by me and grow very long.

2) I was really hoping to work on some of my writing/short stories this summer. However, due to how fast and frantic the summer turned out to be, all I've had time to do is scribble some lines in a pocket-sized notebook I carry with me.

3)I have recently ( as in, just last week) discovered I have serious abandonment issues.
I HATE how hokey and "child of divorce" that sounds, but I have to admit, the issue is very real to me.
I am incorporating this into all of my other issues and I am working on it.

4) As a result of this issue, my guard has been in full-blown brick wall mode for the past three weeks.
I had no idea how fast I go into survival mode. Ah, issues, do they ever go away, or do I just become more aware of them?

5) I wish I had the time, energy, and creativeness to post on this blog everyday like I did in previous times.
I found it to be therapeutic, good writing practice, and great way to find my voice.

What number am I on?

6) I'm scared that I am going to end up living someone else's life.
Finish grad school, move back home until I find a job and stay in home state. As long as I am happy, that's fine, it's the, "not being happy, but my family is happy I am here" thing that scares me. That the sadness my family would keep me from living the life I want to live.

7) I have found that stories just seem to happen to me.
I go out, I mind my own business, before I know it, there is a story to be told somewhere about what happened to me.
Do the stories find me, do I create them, do they just happen?

8) This summer I have spent money like I have it to spend.
Which I do not.
I like to spend my money on going out with friends, going to restaurants, bars. So, basically on food and alcohol.
I've spent a lot of money this summer.
I do not have the money to spend.
August should be interesting when it comes to "so, how am I going to pay rent?"
If I had boundless amounts of cash I would pay of my student loan debt and travel the world as a free spirit. No ties, just go.
Perhaps this says something about me?

9) I go back to Small State U apartment next Friday. I am ready to be home, in my place, in my bed, but I am not ready to be back in Small State U city, nor am I ready to start back to school.
I need a brain break, a school break, a me break.

10) I've learned a lot of lessons this summer. I had no idea about what I didn't know.
I've grown-up, (some, not a lot) I've grown. I've listened, I've learned. There has been way too much needless stress in terms of Brazil, my internship with Grassroots org, (which, even though I resigned, just keeps on coming.) re-taking econ (and oy! that just plain sucked. Let's hope I pass, or there won't be a second year of grad school.) (Yes, this has been a real concern.) However, there has been real joy, accomplishment, and hand-prints left on my heart; with working for the state, working with my special needs students, taking a moment for myself, listening to my inner voice, letting my spirit speak, taking yoga classes, being with my family and many friends many of which I haven't seen in over a year.
The summer of possibilities has been just that, possible.

What about you?

inner dork: I fought the law, and the law won.

2008-07-16T22:06:00.004-05:00

Okay, so it's not that I've forgotten about Inner Dork, it's more that I forget it's Thursday.

..and yes, I know it's still Wednesday, but I know I will forget to post it tomorrow. Thus, Inner Dork, Wednesday.

So,, without further ado:

Did you know...

In Kentucky it is illegal to carry ice cream in your back pocket.
(Good to know. I'm guessing it would be a bit messy, mushy, and melty.)

In Athens, Greece a person's drivers license can be taken away if the driver is either "unbathed" or "poorly dressed."
(I think it is best that this law does not pertain to farming communities.)

During the reign of Queen Victoria, in England, it was against the law to be a homosexual, but not a lesbian. The reason? She did not believe a woman would cunnilingus another woman.
(Apparently believing a man would have anal sex with another man imaginable, but women going down on each other, not so much.)

In Hartford, CT it's against the law for a husband to kiss his wife on Sunday.
(So, skip the kissing. This law says nothing about sex.)

In the U.K. there is no Act of Parliament making it illegal to commit murder. Murder is only illegal due to legal precedent.
(Okay, so what was the precedent and how where they murdered?)

In Sweden prostitution is legal, but it is illegal for anyone to use their services.
(Hmmm, how to get around this law... how...)

A British law passed in 1845 made committing suicide a capital offense. Attemptees could be hanged.
(um, slightly counter-productive, no?)

Dueling is legal in Paraguay as long as both parties are registered blood donors.
(Well, that's simply practical.)

In Michigan it is illegal to put a skunk in your boss's desk.
(Oh, c'mon. That's just a silly law.)

Every citizen of Kentucky is required by law to take a bath at least once a year.
(well, that seems a bit excessive.)

In Bladworth, Saskatchewan, it is illegal to frown at cows.
(Yes, but what about yelling, "mow cow" when you see one?)

so a girl walks into a bar

2008-07-13T20:19:00.003-05:00

...After work or, volunteering, on Thursday I was feeling so amazingly awesome.
I made a suggestion about adding some items to my project.

They loved the suggeston, great idea, duh, of course, add that and run with it.

*pat on my back*

Leave work feeling amazing.

I walk around downtown and after some light perusing of the shops I went to the local watering establishment.
Saddle myself up to the bar, order a beer, stare at the muted TV, I had no plans to talk to anyone in the bar; I was simply there for a drink.

Two beers later, the guy two stools down and I start to talk. The basis bs banter: what do you do, blah, blah, blah. What do you do, blah, blah, blah.
Long story short: he told me human rights is bullshit, I'm wasting my time, I was talking about some of the stupidest shit he had ever heard of, why do we care about Darfur? (to which I pointed out that we don't care about Darfur because they do not possess any resources that we care to take, thus we are happy to not interfer in their genocide) just let them kill themselves. Somehow Iraq was mentioned, to which I asked if he wanted to debate over a fake war...he told me that white men need human rights protection more than anyone else..I sarcastically said, you mean because of affirmative action?
YES!
Oh, I was being sarcastic.

For the record, according to him, women absolutely do not deserve human rights protection, nor minorities, but perhaps, the disabled do.

Now.
He was VERY upset and VERY defensive about my life passion, that is apparently stupid-ass-bullshit (good to know.) I told him that I would not continue talking to him if he continued to yell, demean, and belittle me. He also needed to stop yelling. He apologized for making me mad. He did not, nor was he, making me mad. However, I would not be belittled.

He continued to belittle.

Using phrases such as: (human rights deal with) stupidest ass shit, (I am)waste of time, (I was talking about some of the) stupidest fucking things he ever heard of. And then my favorite: affirmative action: denied him acceptance to the first college he ever attended.
Really, affirmative action denied you acceptance to the first college you ever attended? That's amazing.
I asked if he could prove that. (the affirmative action, part)
No, but he also couldn't prove that it wasn't true.
Wow. That's an amazing argument.

This story ends with me telling him I would no longer speak with him, and turning to the muted TV. He continued to try and apologize for making me mad. (I wasn't mad. He was clearly a dumb-ass. I talk to enough dumb-ass people, no need to talk to one in a bar.) I ignored him. He left. I stayed.

I had a lovely conversation with the female bartender and I ordered another beer.

In the course of speaking with her, another gentleman came in and sat down next to me. We had a lovely conversation and as he heard me speaking with the bartender, he told me it would be pretty hard to be against human rights. I told him I was glad to hear he was preserving the human race.

New Guy and I had a nice conversation, but (oh, c'mon, you knew it was coming) when he asked if I went to local private college and I said, no, I go to Small State U, the flicker in his eye went out and I knew the lovely conversation would not lead anywhere.

This leads to the two middle-aged, upper-middle class men at the end of the bar who had been trying to flirt with me all night, but the visible wedding rings and the talking of kids, put an end to that.
However, in the course of me sitting at the bar, ordering, and buying my own drinks, they proceeded to mention what kind of woman comes into a bar by herself.

I'll cut to the chase.

According to them: that women is only there to be picked-up and to have drinks bought for her. "I mean, look at her (my) body language, look how she's dressed..." (stylish, yet conservative. Skirt that hit my knee, no cleavage, dress sweater over my dressy tank-top, hair was pulled up.) "... only a desperate women would be in here by herself..."
This went on and on.
Until I pointed out to them that I paid for my own drinks, and I even turned a drink down from the second gentleman.

..they shut-up.

However, by this point my rock star attitude that I had a mear four hours before when I walked into the bar, was gone by the time I walked out of the bar.

I hate when people have that power. No, I hate when I give people that power.

However, on another note. I've dealt with too many jerks. There's a good man out there somewhere for me, right? Somewhere out there soon, would be even better. Cause, this Party Girl is getting mighty tired of it all.

Also, this isn't the first time I've encountered men who have felt threatened/intimiated by a single woman, alone, in a bar; why? I do not understand this.
Insights?

...and now a word from our sponsers

2008-07-08T22:15:00.003-05:00

Okay, I have no idea what the title and this post have in common, it just popped into my head.

Basically this is a quick update on what has ben going on.

My best gal is interning with the governor's office and in speaking with the human rights people, they asked her to ask me for my resume. Twice. Maybe even three times they asked, finally I sent it over. Through the magic of Internet email, I was contacted within minutes...yes, minutes of resume receipt, for an interview.

Color me feeling special.
(It's a light shade of pink.)

After a few days of phone tag, I went in for my interview last week and yesterday (Monday) I started my internship with the states Human Rights department.
They mentioned several times how impressed they were with my resume (I tell ya, the next person who tells me this, I am going to ask the to tell me what exactly they find impressive...or maybe I am just bad at tooting my own horn.) So for the next four weeks, 120 hours I will be rewriting, the division that I will be working in, website. The English part, not the computer part.

On the same day that I was called for an interview by human rights, I went back to home city to talk to Small State U's study abroad office, as they offered me an internship as well.
Starting this fall I will be researching all countries visas requirements and putting it into a publication for the school. (appropriate, no?) Yes, I will be published. Sure, it will be boring and dry information, but still.

I really wanted to use the Study Abroad as my internship as 1) it was paid and 2) I could use that as a job and internship and I would not have to find a job this fall.

Of course, my advisor will not let me use it as an internship, so it will be on a volunteer basis. Cause apparently I have copious amounts of time to give.

This leaves the grassroots org that I have been interning with and (not really) been doing research for. I have not wanted to intern with this org since the whole Brazil disaster, but really did not have a choice at the time to get my requirement in...and oh, yeah, all that debt I went into for nothing...so, I've been continuing to "work" for her. (The air quotes, which I hate, are because I have been researching and sending her things, but the amount of energy I spend pissing and moaning about it, versus the amount of time doing, two different amounts.)

So, I need to tell grassroots that I will no longer be interning with her...only I don't want to. I don't want to tell her, I just want to stop. Yet, I think it is incredibly important for her to know why (ala, bad internship, mislead about Brazil, copious amounts of money lost for nothing) but I also don't want to. Not because I am scared, or a chickenshit, just...I don't care. I don't have the energy to do it. Bad? Maybe, but right now, that's right, I don't care.
I'm resentful, no longer angry, but still resentful. It will pass. It was all for the best and it has all worked out, but still.

For the remainder of July I will be working with my special needs students at former employeer college, running to my internship to get 120 hours in within four weeks, and trying to enjoy my summer of possibilities. The movie going and popcorn munching will slow waaaaaay down henceforth.

Your thoughts?

Update on the summer of possibilities:

Movies:

Get Smart (wait for DVD)
Kung Fu Panda (loved it, so cute and a great message.)
Wall-E (Wow, what a social commentary for the parents who got suckered in to see it with their kids. Great message, plan to see it again.)
Wanted (Awesome, brainless, spontaneous violent fun, that actually contains a storyline. Oh, and amazing eye candy throughout.)

Books:

The Dirt on Clean, an Unsanitized History (bathing habits throughout history)
The Omnivore's Dilemma (Not helping my "I don't like not knowing where my food it coming from, all the hormones injected into my food, and how the hell does Salmonella get into tomatoes?" dilemma, but interesting.)
The Miraculous Adventure of Edward Tulane (a kid's book. Read it in one hour. Want to feel like you accomplished something, read a kid's book.)
100 Ways America is Screwing up the World (really, just 100?)
Walking in Circles Before Lying Down (Poorly written, but cute story)

Currently reading:

The Day of Empire, Rise of the Hyperpower
A Splendid Exchange, How Trade Shaped the World
Follies, a collection of short stories.

I have several story ideas I am working on.

Oh, and I am taking yoga and going for very long walks each day. Both make me feel incredibly powerful. Good for the soul, good for the brain, good for the spirit.

Sorry that there aren't any links, it's getting late, I am lazy, and I need to study for my econ test, which is tomorrow, and get my required 4-6 hours of sleep to repeat what you just read and I just typed.
Good day.

inner dork: Born on the fourth of July

2008-07-03T22:16:00.002-05:00

Wow, have I been bad about posting the inner dorks, or what?

Wow, have I been bad about posting in general, or what? (more about why and what's been going on, later.)

Now, I bring you factoids about the Fourth of July. Ta Da! Exciting!

Did you know...

In July 1776 the number of people living in America was 2.5 million.

In July, 2008 the population will be 304 million.

Although the formal adoption by the Continental Congress of the Declaration of Independence was on July 4, 1776, the signing was not completed until August.

The first observed celebration was on July 8, 1776, in PA.

The Fourth of July was not a legal holiday until 1941.

Uncle Sam first became popular during the War of 1812, when the term appeared on supply containers. However, it wasn't until 1961 that the U. S. Congress adopted him as a national symbol.

(And just to get you ready for the BBQ)
There is a one in four chance that the hot dog or sausage that will be consumed today, came from Iowa. (Hopefully it was packaged before the flood.)

You have been dorked.

Happy Fourth everyone!!!

how to make the bitterness return in five minutes or less

2008-06-16T21:26:00.003-05:00

...so, just for shits and giggles, during a break in econ class tonight, I decided to add up all the things I lost money on for the little trip to Brazil.

$600+ on vaccines (and I'm still not finished with all of them)
$300 on plane cancellation fees (better than nothing, but still)
$300+ visa fees (you know, to be denied)
$100+ driving to Chicago (once again, just to be denied)
$60 on language tapes (useless)
$30 on a book about Brazil (gee, that came in handy)
and hundreds more on miscellaneous charges, like making extra keys for my apartment, malaria pills,(that won't be used) and let's not forget the econ class I get to take again (yah!) $300+.

Altogether the amount (which I can remember anyway, I know this is not the total amount that I have lost, this is just the amount which I can recall) I have lost, spent, begged, borrowed, took an early payout on, which means I will be penalized come tax time, totals: $1731.00

Yep.

I knew I lost over $1000.00 on this little misadventure, but I didn't realize it was closer to $2000.00.

Concentrating through the rest of class was a bit difficult.

I really didn't want to intern with the misbegotten grassroots organization, but I finally got tired of going back and forth with my brain, (and after two emails and two voice mails to my advisor asking for guidance and help, only to receive none. As in, literally. No response from any of the emails or phone calls. Thanks.) so, I told her last week I would get on with my research.
I have not gotten on with my research as of yet.
...and now I really do not care to research a good god-blessed piece o' information.
Every time I think about my internship I become sick to my stomach. So, I am either pregnant (eck!)(and gosh, it would be really pickled at this point.) or my mind and body are telling me to shove this little grassroots org deep into some back lawn.

Thoughts?

...and no worries, I'm still drinking as if I was back in college town. I mean really, was there any doubt or question about that?

water, water everywhere, nor a drop to drink

2008-06-13T10:03:00.002-05:00

Sitting here enjoying my summer of possibilities, I thought, gosh, I really don't have anything to write about.
...

...

Oh, wait! A large portion of Home State along with Home City are flooded. Hmmm, maaaaybe I should write about that.

Now, when I say, flooded, I don't mean there are a few puddles of water here and there, no, I mean, a large portion of Home State is under water. Several, several, several, several feet of water and the rivers have not crested as of yet, which means more water is coming though Saturday.

I had planned to go back to Home City to visit, this weekend, but I cannot. I cannot get back to Home City, because they are not letting people in.

Having spent the Floods of '93 trapped for the weekend in the Children's Home in which I worked, later burning myself with boiled clean water, only then to soothe the burn with contaminated cold water, thus seeking comfort from a bag of frozen peas as I drove myself to the doctor to get a tetanus shot...the Floods of '08, are going better for me. For me, but not for thousands of others.

I've had friends check on my apartment, it's fine, but things around my apartment are not. I know the school has been canceled a few times this week. Main street are closed and evacuated (where my friends and I go almost every night of the week to drink our days away.) However, in terms of my apartment, it's not the flood waters I am worried about, it is the trees, specifically, the Shade-o-riffic tree. I want the tree to die, but I do not wish it to die by going through my apartment roof from one of the bad storms.

One of my guy friends is interning as an emergency manager within Home City...I would say he is getting a wonderful first-hand training/learning experience.
Girlfriends are sandbagging their homes, other friends have had to be evacuated.

So, although the National News has been reporting on us, I always tend to believe that they sensationalize and only show one bad area, but really, it's not that bad. Well, I am here to tell you, it is that bad. Bad, Bad, horribly awful bad and it is only going to get worse as the rivers crest throughout the weekend.

so far

2008-06-06T11:50:00.003-05:00

So far on the summer of possibilities:

I've seen: Ironman, Sex and the City (twice) and today I will see the new Indiana Jones.

I've read: Sold by Patricia McCormick. It's about a girl from Nepal who is (perhaps) unwittingly sold into a brothel by her family.

Baker Towers by Jennifer Haige. That one was about a family living in a PA coal mining town starting in the 1940's and ends in the 1970's. Sounds like a chick book, but I think men would enjoy it as well.

I've begun reading: Truck: A Love Story by Michael Perry and also Tallgrass by Sandra Dallas.

I've started two new paintings: (hopefully I will be finished with one by the end of the weekend.) (Pictures will be forthcoming of the last ones I've completed as well as the new ones.)

I've gone for a walk everyday. Yesterday I went for two walks. The walks are making me happy.

I am working at Former Place of Employment: a.k.a the college I worked at for five years prior to moving. I am working as a tutor for a few students and as a special needs helper for another. In other words, I am doing what I used to supervise over. I am a peon. I couldn't be happier about this.

Internship: haven't done a thing for it. Reason? Cause I emailed by advisor on Monday asking him to advise me and I have not heard back from him. So, I refuse to lift another finger until I do.

I have some creative writing sentences flowing through my head; I'm sure they will make there way to the keyboard within a few more days. It's a process.

Level of bitterness: Pretty much gone. I've accepted that Brazil wasn't supposed to happen (for whatever reason.) I'm happy being back at Former Employer cause gosh, I was missed by everyone (and no one likes the gal who replaced me. Ah, it's amazing how nice that feels) and well, being missed and being liked is good for the psyche. Still not happy about having to take econ, but based on the quizzes I just took, perhaps it's a good thing I am.

When the alarm goes off: I don't mind it. I am staying up reading until about 1 a.m. and sleeping until 8:01 a.m. every morning. Funny how when there really aren't any obligations going on it's easier to get up and going in the morning.

Ah, fresh air. Damn, but it does feel good.

the summer of possibilities

2008-06-02T21:47:00.003-05:00

6:48 pm

That's the time my plane departed on Sunday for Brazil.
The plane I wasn't on, but still.

Around 6:50pm I went for a long walk.
Walking and thinking about all the reasons and all the whys and trying to figure it all out in a matter of miles.
Am I supposed to spend time with my parents for some reason?
Am I supposed to work with someone this summer and make a difference in one of their lives?
Am I supposed to do some sort of research this summer that will lead into a future job?
Was I supposed to have all of these problems with my visa and travel to pass on to someone else?
What about my micro class?
and on and on.

Then on my return trip from my walk, I realized, it took seven months of ignoring my inner voice that something was not right about my internship and my travel plans and three weeks of trying to sort out the ensuing mess; therefore, something tells me it is going to take a helluva lot longer than a walk to figure out the deeper meaning. So, stop trying to.

I, being me, had initially planned to: live with the 'rents for the summer, get a job at my old place of work, volunteer at the local AIDS project and also the local Planned Parenthood, work on my internship, and take my night class. All within eight weeks, mind you.

So far I have: moved home temporarily for the summer, gotten a job at my old place of work, checked into volunteering, but neither place currently needs volunteers, waiting for my internship to be re-approved, and taking my night class, finished one book, working on another.

Frankly, I'm thinking that working, class, internship: that's plenty for one person.

So, so far I have concluded that maybe, just maybe (naughty girls need love, too.) (Thanks, Samantha Fox.) that this summer is about taking care of me. Slowing down and enjoying some time. I've finished one book since Friday, well on my way to finishing a second. Today I went to the local library and brought an arm-full of books home with me. Right now, delving into all of them sounds like a near-perfect summer.
My Mama thinks I am supposed to take the summer to put together and write my book. Who knows.
The summer is full of possibilities and (currently) I have all the time in the world to figure it out. So, for once, I'm not in a rush. And maybe, that's all I'm supposed to get out of all this; to simply slow down and breathe.

Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one.

2008-05-28T23:17:00.002-05:00

Brazil, I won't be going.

The end.

.....

...

Oh, did you want to know the story?

After copious amounts of time, money, energy, and time, being denied several times on the visa front, choosing between graduating or not graduating; I choose graduating, but really, it was decided for me.

I really think I lucked out on not going to Brazil. I really think I was simply not meant to go. For whatever reason, Brazil is not were I am supposed to be. It also turns out the director of the org I am interning with is now not going either. She gave me reasons, but I have a feeling the fact I am not going does not factor into it. So, I would have been seriously SOL without here there. She also mentioned as one of her reasons for not going "that it is a high crime area and she did not want to make herself vulnerable..."
Ah.
Excuse me, we were going to be in the same area, so, wouldn't that have made me vulnerable????

Yeah. Not happy with her, but unfortunately I do not have a choice, I need my internship to approved with her, otherwise I am super, super, duper SOL in many ways.

I was not allowed into the class I need this fall, even though the interim advisor said it would be fine for me to audit the class. So, now I need to retake micro this summer. I am very bitter about this. Oh well.

So, I am in home state for the next seven weeks, staying with the 'rents to save money and will be picking up a job and working on my internship, counting down the days until the micro class is over, but yet, not wishing my life away.

I've cycled through the emotions. Been stuck on bitter. Haven't cried. This scares me a bit.

So, that's it. Hope and dreams in one hand, the other hand smashing it to bits.

But, there's a reason for everyth..blah, blah, blah.....

Oh, as a result of all of this, a distant cousin who is working in Mozambique requested my resume.
She works in Mozambique, which means I would be working in Mozambique. So, there you go.
Who knows, right?

drama, trauma, and all things cured with age and alcohol

2008-05-21T18:56:00.003-05:00

First, I'm not a fan of drama or trauma. Not.at.all.

Monday night was my best girl's birthday. She turned 25, remember when you freaked out over being 25? Ah, memories.

Anyway, we hit the bar at 6:30. Good lord, that's early, but the gang was there, the beers were $1 and the shots kept coming, and no one expected to close the bar. Ah, foolishness.

My goal was to drink as much as I could without throwing-up. (It's good to have goals.) My best gal usually has a two beer limit and a, "no, I don't want to do a shot" mantra. So, she's usually my driver. (It's good when friendships can have a strategy where no one dies.)

So, several rounds of beers, several shots. (Her shot count was 11, my shot count was 8) (Her count on beer was 3, my beer count was well over 10)(But, it was Bud Lite, that's really just foamy water.)

The drama included:
a girl and guy in out class hooking up over the weekend. I've been waiting for this occurrence to happen for about three weeks. I love people watching and observing what others don't/can't see.
He told me nothing happened. She was quite open about what happened.
So, I got the scoop on that little story.

Aforementioned girl and her boyfriend/fiance officially broke-up last week. (I got the scoop on the break-up as well.)

Another girl, who no one really likes yet, she is invited more so as not to be left out than as someone who wants to be included, was confronted about God, religion, heaven, hell, and all things holy and mighty.
She left the bar in tears.
She is a preacher's daughter.
Oh, the turmoil.
There was a long phone call from the bathroom on my phone, but not with me talking on it, aforementioned break-up/hook-up girl was talking her off the proverbial Mount Holiness.

My best girl and her guy broke-up (but, I didn't get that scoop until today) and he professed all of his love and heart to her in a drunken stupor.
She told him to stop it and she was not impressed. (Good girl.)

I was lying through the bottom of my beer mug telling everyone how excited I was about Brazil (Why go into it, ya know?)

St. Pat's one-nighter was there at the bar. (Crap.) Which he (tried to) make me feel bad about not coming over sooner to say hi. At which point I told him I believed his legs worked and he could have walked over to me. He then proceeded to blame me for not calling him. At which point I told him that I didn't realize his phone worked at any other time except 2 a.m. and that one special time at 4:30 a.m. His friend leaned into the conversation, at which time I asked him if I could help him with something, cause he could go away. (Yeah, sometimes it's not good to push me and it's really never a good idea to blame ridiculous things on me.)He left in a huff.

I actually had a good time. (I know. Blame the beer.) (and Jager.) (and so-co and lime) (and the lemon drop) and (the so-co and lime.) (and the Jager) (and two others I cannot remember.) I managed to walk into and walk out of the drama throughout the night. You know, say the compassionate thing, be the friend, go order another beer and take another shot, be the fly in the room that is inadvertently hearing three conversations and watching the world melt-down around me.

Yeah, it was ridiculous, but alcohol will do that.
So will being around people under the age of 25.
Ah, remember those days?
Aren'tchay glad it's no longer you?

Oh, when my guy friend (and current crush, just waiting for the impending and inevitable break-up with his current gal) called the next afternoon at 11:30 a.m. to ask where the drinking was going to be. I said I was still drunk. After a large sandwich to absorb the remaining alcohol from the night before, he and I drank the afternoon away. Ah, semester breaks and life not working out as planned.

P.S. No update on my visa, but there have been some interesting life developments. More later as I know more.

...and it all comes tumbling down

2008-05-17T10:41:00.002-05:00

Oy.
Oy.
Oy.

The week I have had.

Friday, yellow fever. The effects were felt instantly. Instantly.
A weekend of aches, pains, and the feeling of a bowling ball hitting me in the head.
Monday, I felt perfectly fine.
I start typing up my internship research while listening to my Portuguese tapes.
lalalalalalalala ...happy, happy.

Knock, knock, knock on my door.

Oh, hello, Mr. Postman. It's my visa info.

It's my visa info which has been denied.
I applied as a tourist, but had to show sufficiant funds, so I included my financial aid letter. Now they want a letter from the school and org and I also had to get a criminal background from my police department. (which is rather boring as there is no bakground in crime.
They are requesting more info, but I don't have time to mail it all in. The latest I can leave to go to the Consulate in Cicago is Thursday. So, I wait to hear if the guy who I am traveling/staying with has been denied (again, as he has already been denied once)...as of Wednesday he has not heard. So, my girlfriend and I take a road trip to the Chicago Consulate.

WOW.

I am sure they deal with all kinds, but wow. Talk about stoic..and mean.
I was denied not once, not twice, but yes, three times.
Four times altogether at this point.
As a tourist, (two no's) as an unpaid intern, and then I asked since I have the tickets and housing if I can just disregard this and go as a tourist. No. No. No. No.
The intern was no'd because the org is a U.S. org, but is not registered in Brazil, therefore, it is not recognized, therefore, absolutely not. "It would be no different than working out of your back yard..."

I was in considerably good spirits considering, still managing to laugh...until about an hour outside of home base. ...or many, many long hours later.
Then the reality of the situation was hitting me: not graduating, all (ALL) the money I have spent, life. Yeah.
I email the org director to explain the situation. I was very professional, nothing nasty at all, but explained how frustrated I was.

Friday I get a nasty email from org director, (She is currently out of the country) that I applied wrong and what this will mean to her and her organization...nothing about what can be done for me.
I choose to ignore that nasty email and did not respond to it.
She later sent another email and apologized.

Anyway, yesterday I called the travel co to see about my plane ticket...cancel $150, change the flight, but can only be changed within Brazil and there are no flights between now and November, they are all booked, and it would be $150 to change the flight. However, he told me to call a visa service and laughed that I went to the Chicago Consulate because they deny everyone and travel companies/visa services do not go there.
So, just FYI.
Called the visa service, they laughed at my foolishness in Chicago. Fine. So, $80 additional non-refundable dollars later, I mailed my visa request to DC and it will be taken to the Embassy. I will know if I was denied by Tues/Wed of next week and will get it back, if approved, by Monday, 26th. I am going home on the 28th, leave June 1.
No pressure.

But wait, there's more.
(C'mon, there always is.)

Trying to register for one of my required classes for the fall, can't. I audited micro (the required course) this spring. Spoke with the head of econ and the professor who teaches the class before finals. Prof asked if I took the tests. Yes (lie) if you were graded what would you be getting? B (lie)
I don't lie, but I felt cornered, off guard, and was just telling them what I thought they wanted to hear. Bad, bad idea. He asked me to give him permission to contact my professor to verify the above. Sure.(Why the hell did I agree to that?)

Tried to register again yesterday, nope. Emailed professor, nasty email later wondering if I was "that lady in the hallway who did not fulfill my end of the bargain...but he was not sure if I was or not. I need to see him."

So, continue the lie and be denied. Lie and say, not me, didn't take the tests, can't meet cause I am trying to leave the country and am not sure I will be in town...?
Which one should I choose?

See, cause here's the thing, without that class, I won't graduate. I will not stick around for another year for one class, which is only offered in the fall and finish comps in 2010. No way.

So, blogger friends it has not been a good week.

Yesterday I was ready to chuck it all. But, yet still positive. Go, figure.
Yesterday I also started to get mad.
No tears, yet. (Key word. Something tells me it will be ugly when they do decide to flow.)

The org girl is telling me not to give up. She has other options if Brazil does not work out for my internship. Haiti, maybe. Or I can stay here and do my internship...without a director, yeah, that might pose problems.

And lots, and lots of time, energy, and money lost.

Do I want to go to Brazil for the entire summer to learn and experience another cultural, of course.
Do I want to volunteer for the girl, not really. There have been so many problems and issues beyond just the visa. The guy I am to room with has no desire to help her, he is still going to Brazil because that's what he was planning to do, but wants nothing to do with the org.
anyway...so. Yeah.

I am ready to quit school, sell everything, travel where I can, and get a job and re-enter the real world again.

Any idas?

Inner dork (but not really. But kindof, maybe)

2008-05-08T00:02:00.002-05:00

Okay, so I know it's the most famous of days known as Inner Dork, but I have bigger things to speak of, okay, not really. It's more that I'm tired and I'm still on the computer and I want to write and speak of things other than Eleanor Roosevelt and Human Rights.

So, I cannot believe that tomorrow is my last day of school and the end of my first year of grad school. How the hell did that happen? Well, let me tell you. It happened after lots of papers, a few tears, many laughs and inside jokes with friends, much growth and insight, and even more fermented beverages.

I leave for Brazil in 25 days. (I think) Actually, I don't know how many days. I am tired and I do not have a calculator, take today and minus it to June 1st...that's when I leave.

Friday I get my vaccines for yellow fever and Hep A and Hep B. I plan to sleep the weekend away. But, if there should be reports of a naked woman screaming that she has lost her invisible plane, well, that would be a story about me.
However, as I am getting my vaccines early in the a.m. on Friday and tomorrow (or today) is the last day of classes I am on a strict two beer one shot limit. (I know. It DOES suck to be me) Why? Cause one of the 911-side effects is vomiting...I want to know it is the vaccine and not the beer which is causing the toilet bow-down. Nothing like calling the am-bu-lance only to be told I am hung-over, ya know?

The drunk dials from my St. Pat's one nighter seem to have stopped. (I have now cursed myself and I am sure the calls will now recommence.) (Or there will be a run-in.) (Damn me and my whorish ways.) (But not really at all.)

I plan to make it to at least one baseball game before I leave. A guy-friend and I had a crazy-stupid plan to make a roadtrip to KC and back in time for my final, sans any sleep, but alas, it did not pan out. (He was called into work) Poop stain.

After weeks of typing and cramming non-stop, I will turn in one paper in the early morning, finish the paper that is due tomorrow night (today) in the early a.m., practice for my presentation on said night paper, and then start working on my internship projects.
Along with cramming to learn Portuguese, hoping my visa is approved cause I just mailed it yesterday..no fault of my own, I just received the last of my documents yesterday...packing, planning, getting, crossing-off all things for Brazil, school for the fall, begging for some last minute money for the trip....and...craploads more, but really, do you care?
Stressed, who me? Naw. I'm sleeping like a colicky baby.

Okay, fine.....

Did you know that a group of mice is called a mischief?
That a mouse can squeeze through a whole as small as a pencil led?
and that one female mouse can result in 16,000 offspring in her lifetime? (her kids, their kids, ect...)

Shew...inner dork and all things useless and trivial has been saved!
Thanks, History Channel.

Q and A (with more Q than A)

2008-05-06T14:56:00.002-05:00

Q:Why is cornbread so delicious?
A:Because it is made from the tears of Native Americans.

Q: How do you know when you're bleeding internally?
A: Because you're screaming externally.

Q: Why do we need three different versions of Law and Order?
And CSI?

Q: Why is it called a plum when it has all its juice, but a prune when it has been sucked dry?

Q: How strong are college student's bladders?
A: Very. Between the pop, energy drinks, coffee, and copious amounts of beer and other fermented beverages; their bladders are like giant steal balloons.

Q: Why do some plants come back every year, yet others do not and how come there are not a whole bunch of dead flora and fauna?

Q: Why are bagels so delicious?
A: Because it comes with cream cheese as an added bonus.

Q: Why does courage come with alcohol and the ability to pick-up and dial the phone at 2 a.m.?
A: I don't freakin know, but if I am drunk dialed one more time by a certain individual it will not be pretty. 4:13 a.m. on Friday/Saturday was the latest. I had been out drinking for several hours, I was not happy about being woken up. I let him know it.

But, I digress.

Q: Why are all 20 page papers due during the same week?
A: Because it's called finals week, stupid-head.
And
A: To see if I can get them all finished. It's all part of the test called life.

I am aware

2008-05-01T22:04:00.004-05:00

Tonight I wanted to stay after class and go to the library to work on my papers. The library closes at midnight, I planned to stay until they asked me leave.
As I was leaving class the sky was filled with lightning and I turned to my girlfriend and asked what time the tunnel closed, the tunnel is the underground hallway that connects the buildings on campus, she thought it closed at 10, it was currently about 9:30.

Frustrated, I went to buy a sandwich and weighed the pros and cons of walking to the library, walking across campus in the dark, during a thunderstorm, with an extremely heavy backpack strapped to me, all in order to study late.

Angry, frustrated, tired, and stressed, I realized I was not willing to make myself a walking target. I realized I was too aware.

Aware of the dangers of being a female walking by herself, in the dark, during finals, with the words "moving target" written across me.
My major, my focus, my passion, the statistics, my past; I had made myself too aware.

I realized that men do not understand when they are simply walking in the opposite direction down the same sidewalk, that I am sizing them up, taking notes, and determining if they are a threat.

I like men who are tall, broad shoulder, and heavy-set because I feel more protected, safer with them, yet, at the same time, a person of that description can be overpowering and a threat.

I have three locks and a peep-hole on my door, but when I moved in there were only two and a solid wood frame.

I became aware that my friends make fun of me for having all the locks yet, they never even think to lock their doors at night.

I realized that if I hear a noise in the middle of the night, I will roll over in bed so that I am facing my bedroom door and I will watch to see if there are any shadows.

I became aware that I know how to get in my car in one fluid motion and lock the door behind.

I always walk with a purpose; car key pointed, phone at the ready, head held high.

I realized I pass strangers and look them in the eye.

I realized that when I see females walking across campus or a parking lot on their cell phone completely oblivious to their surroundings I become angry with them.

I admitted to myself that if I feel I am getting too much unwanted attention I binge eat to gain weight to try and make myself less attractive.

I admitted to myself that when I do gain weight and I am not getting the attention, I don't always like it.

I choose my apartments strategically. Always on the top floor always a corner apartment always in some place that I deem safe. That way it is harder to break-in to my place.

Tonight, after moving my car in the pitch-black parking lot, I realized I also park my car with a purpose.

I am always aware if some place is well lit.

Currently my parking lot is not.

I realized I worry about things, think about things, take in things that my girlfriends and guyfriends would never take into account.

I know they make fun of me at times if I say something, I know they have the luxury of ignorance and I do not.

I realized all of this tonight because I wanted to stay at the library and study until midnight so I could sleep in tomorrow, instead I rationalized that it was not safe to do, and so I came home and I became very angry, then I became sad.

Sad because I realized I am a statistic of many.
Sad because there will be more statistics made.
Sad because in the time it took to compose this, there have been thousands of statistics.
Sad because some will not be counted and because some will not be believed.
Sad that I have had to be made aware and sad that men have no idea how they are sometimes seen.
Sad for what I've admitted, sad for the things I have left out, forgotten, or not realized.
Angry that my past dictates my future and my present.
Angry that the word rape still illicits shame, pity, self-loathing, ignorance, blame, behaviors, thoughts, powerlessness.
Sad and angry for all of it.

holy fuck-buckets, Batman!

2008-04-28T17:20:00.002-05:00

So, the birthday weekend was speldiferous. Lots o' shots in a row, lots o' Sam Adams in a row. There was no row of vomit. Nope, not even a hang-over. Trust me, I don't know how I do it either. Thanks for the well wishes.

Last week went from Monday morning to Wednesday night in a blink of an eye as it always does, yet I am still amazed every week. But, the end of the semester is fast approaching and I have a lot to cram in, so, I had a plan of attack and a long list of things to check off in the next weeks. (wow, that was a run-on)

Which of course means I went out on Thursday (and probably a few other days last week, but the important day is Thursday.) Out with friends, pitchers of Sam Adams and lots of shots (notice a theme?) Most importantly I only had to split a pitcher the rest was free. Ah, thanks.

While out with the generous friends at the local college bar, we were listening to our favorite piano playing entertainer. Good friends, sharing laughs, comparing cleavage, and checking out the youngins. Each corresponding laugh, cleve, and oogle was followed by the aforementioned shots.

Finally, I need to take a pee break. In the one toilet bathroom, listening to the entertainment through the walls, when I hear Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" I straighten my posture on the pot in excitment aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand immediately throw my neck out.

That's right. Journey threw my neck out. Not a blowjob, boobage, great kiss, bump and grind involved. Although, I don't think pumping and grinding to Journey is possible. Sex, sure. Down and dirty sex, um, no.

So, out of the bathroom, walk to the table of friends, grasping the back of my neck, but I am determined to stay the night. A few more shots, (in the hopes it would lube me up into relaxation) my best gal tipping the beer up to my lips, aaaaaaaaaaaaand then me finally giving it up and going home.

Covering my neck and arms in the most lovely fragrant of Icy/Hot, taking some vicodin, and rolling the back massager all over my body. (It is a back massager, not a vibrator.) (although, let's be honest, it has worked wonders as both.) Around 3 a.m. suddenly becoming very tired (might have been the alcohol and vicodin. Didn't really think that one through. Or did I?)

Awoken at 10 a.m. by my best gal making sure I was still alive. I was. I was also in a hell-of-a-lot pain. And not from the alcohol.

Long story, long, I was out all weekend. No, I mean, out, as in, on the couch. No amount of Icy/Hot, alcohol, alcohol and vicodin, some pot that I found (old, but still pot) was able to help. Why is this a big deal? Cause this weekend was supposed to be uber productive. Productive in getting all papers finished this week so I could work on all internship requirements next week (finals week) so that if I have an adverse reaction to the yellow fever vaccine and the Hep A and Hep B vaccine, which I am having shot into my body the day after finals (and a night out with friends) it wouldn't matter.

Cause I leave for Brazil in less than five weeks (!!!!!!)

So, this weekend was to be all productive.

It wasn't.

Instead I learned that I can take vicodin and alcohol and feel really good, but not ease the pain, that I was frustrated by my lack of being able to do anything I needed to. (typing was not an option) (I even tried masturbating to ease the tension and pain.) (I was happy, but the neck wasn't.) However, today I managed to get up early and kick-out six pages of nothing but facts for this week's history paper. So, gold star for me.

On a completely unrelated note, Miley Cyrus's photo spread, why do we care; and if it effects her career, that's just sad. My god, sex sells everything and she is 15. I realize her career is for little girls, but again, she is 15 going on grown-up, did we think she was going to sing for Disney forever?

Okay, back to me: So, the point of this post is that, I can throw my neck out in a really sad and pathetic way, I drink a lot, I still like pot even though I haven't smoked in a really, really long time, I need to be less enthusiastic while taking a pee, and I leave for Brazil way too soon, but not soon enough, but too soon that I still have a crap load of things to accomplish. (Again, with the run-on.)

Eck!

Oh, and I was awarded a $500 scholarship for the summer, I made some money selling my jewelry at a fundraiser, but I am still in need of funds. C'mon stimulus check.

inner dork: all things random about, me!

2008-04-17T10:01:00.002-05:00

Not only is today Inner Dork, it's also my birthday, I know! How lucky am I? Huh? How? Oh, so, very, that's how.

Today I am 34. I can't believe it either. I am still so shiney and fabulous I just can't stand it.

So, in honor of inner dork and in honor of me, today will be all things random and having to do with, well, me.

I was born at 2:30 a.m. (I started out as a night owl and I have remained a night owl)

I was very sick as an infant. I spent many months in and out of the hospital. At one point, due to rheumatic fever, I believe, they did not think I would be able to see, walk, or talk. (Hmm, stupid white men in lab coats, what do they know, I showed them.)

I will take a brownie, just plain, no need to interfere with the chocolate, over sugar any day.

I don't really care for sweets. Or pop. Or anything sugary.

I will take a bagel over a brownie.

I believe cheese makes everything better and there can never be too much of it on anything.

I am currently reading "Where the Domino Fell" about the Vietnam war beginning in the 1800's to 1995. Interesting, but hard to follow. I need to have it read by 6pm tonight. I am on page 69. There are 286 pages.

I watched "Into the Wild" more than two weeks ago and I cannot get it out of my head. I tried to post about it, but it was all jumbled. (As opposed to what it normally is.)

I haven't been kissed since March 18th. (sad.)

I have a three day birthday bash planned for myself. Out tonight with several friends, party at my place on Friday, getting gussied-up on Saturday and my best gal and I are hitting the martini bar.

Since getting very sick after drinking several vodka cranberries, I can no longer even take a sip of my former favorite cocktail. I am on a hunt for a new beverage. I will take suggestions.

Jager is my favorite shot.

"The Great Gatsby" made me fall in love with literature.

"The Things They Carried" is one of my favorite books.

I have to fall asleep on my stomach. More precise: on my left side, on my stomach, right hand over my stomach,left arm under the pillow, left leg bent. (I know, I'm weird.) (I've woken up with a perfect hand-print on my stomach many, many times.) (And a few on my ass, but that's another story.)

I've been accepted to six colleges. Four state colleges, plus the Art Institute in Atlanta, GA and The Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, NY.

I have attended three colleges.

My favorite color is royal purple.

My middle name starts with "L"

If I suddenly came into enough money to pay off all of my student loans and credit cards, I would sell all of my belongings and travel the world.

So, actually, only about $100,000. (Enough to pay off my debt, and then some to live and travel on.)

I would love to be able to make enough money through writing, painting, and photography to be able to support myself.

I am constantly amazed by what can happen within a year.

Or for that matter a day.

Or an hour.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm, okay, that's all the randomness I can handle on myself.

So, tell me something random about you.

it truly is the root of all evil

2008-04-15T21:54:00.002-05:00

I am normally a tigger. Happy, see the bright side of life, bounce back and get on with it.

However, in the last few weeks I've been angry. Angry about money and all it entails. I haven't been angry about money, I've been angry at money. Now, does money care that I am angry with it? Doubtful. After all, it's not human, it has no soul, no emotions, no gut. Therefore, it's heartless.
Yep. I am angry at money. I hate it. I hate money.

Of course there's a reason.

Here's why.

No job this semester because I choose to focus on school and getting my GPA up. (You know, so as not to get kicked out) I've lived off loans and have been resourceful in terms of selling things on half.com to make some extra money.

This leads into Brazil. I've had to come up with my funds for the summer. Financial aid covered most of it, but not all of it. That's okay because I have been resourceful and it wouldn't be that much that I would have to come up with.

Taxes. After working six+ jobs in the past year, doing my taxes took all day, but I actually got a refund back from the fed, but owed state a nice chunk of change. Excellent. The funds from fed will pay state and that would leave me just over $600 for Brazil. Excellent.

Car. Of course since I paid my car off this past fall it has started to fall apart. New brakes, pads, routers (no idea how to spell that, I'm a girl, I know I look good in my car, that's about it.) $251.00.
Fine. Pissy about that, but fine.
Then I am driving along one day about a month later and I cannot get my car above 45mph and since I was in a 65mph zone, that was a bit scary. Oh look, smoke seems to be billowing from underneath my car. Is my car on fire?!?!?!? That can't be good.
$408.12 later, the piston on my brakes had locked up. I was essentially driving with my brakes on. They assured me it was not their fault...even though they had just replaced my brakes. Fine.
There went my tax return.
There went my funds for Brazil.

Time to look for a job. There is nothing out there for me since I can only work for about two months.
Fine.

A few weeks ago I received a letter from my alternative student loan company. Due to the economy they are going to change my rate from the COF to the LIBOR rate. No need to look anything up: the COF rate will go to, you have got to be sucking my ass, high. And the LIBOR is the London rate, which is apparently doing better than the USofA rate, but still isn't great and will be variable every three months.
Wow. Awesomeness.
Which awesomely suck-ass-bad rate should I choose? I juggled my tits, hoped for the best, and took the LIBOR rate.

Doctor bills. I do not have insurance. I haven't had insurance for over five years. I've learned to only go to the doctor if I am bleeding internally and screaming externally, which means I never go to the doctor except for my yearly gyn exam. March is my time for my exam.
$110.
Even if I had the student insurance it wouldn't be covered. Yeah. Since I am in the Public Policy major, I will be trying to do something about that, that's crap. STD testing isn't covered either. Hmmm, college campus+random sex+ experimental sex+ holy crap, I'm getting laid sex+ stupid college kids= a peetry dish of STD activity, yet it isn't covered. Yeah. I will be trying to change that as well.
Lab bill for my pap $90+ $110 for my yearly exam.
Fuckin' awesome.

Apartment leases and high rent rates.
A girlfriend and I were looking to move in with each other. Loved the first place we looked. Unfortunately, I didn't think about a deposit until we were standing in the driveway and the landlord was handing us the app. My half $325. Might as well be $325,000.
My friend offered to loan me my half and then I could just pay her when my lease is up. I couldn't do it. Borrowing and lending of the evil greenbacks, I learned long ago to just say no.
That, plus my lease is up July 31, I will be in Brazil until August 2nd. That and some autonomy issues that I thought I had gotten over, but, um, no. No, I haven't.
So.
I will be paying $20 more for my crappy apartment, which I hate, come August. Absolutely no idea why the rent went up.

Things for Brazil. I am super-uber excited to be going. Truly. A dream. My life's mission.
But, (oh, you knew there would be a but) for every step I take forward and cross off my list, there are 12.5 steps back and 8 more things to add to my list. I am not enjoying the process. One thing that is proving to be a nightmare: getting a visa and (okay, two things) trying to find housing. Good lord.

So. I leave in about 6 weeks and I am still desperately short on funds.
I am partaking in a fundraiser on Friday, please, oh, please let it be successful. I am selling some of my paintings and some of my jewelry (both that I made) (and I guess I should say, I hope to sell. Although, the other way has a more positive spin, so, I will stick with that one.) along with a donation box (or a tip jar, which one?) asking for donations.
I sent an email out to family and friends asking for funds; I got several who said they would send me money, but so far only two actually have. Awesome! Thanks family and friends.

And, of course there is more, but really, do you care?

So, right now I hate money. Hate it. I hate not having it. I hate worry about it. I hate stressing about it. I hate counting pennies and worrying and justifying and stressing over things I cannot control, which involve money. I hate that we have to have money to "survive." I hate that there are haves and have nots. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.

I want the barter system back. Or to go back to salt being the king of monetary value. Although, I live in the Midwest, not a lot of salt, so I would still be poor.
How about ethanol? Okay, well, I have a boycott on ethanol.
Beads. yYeah, beads. After all, that's how we got Manhattan. Yep. Beads.

issues

2008-04-13T22:14:00.002-05:00

Issues. We've all got 'em. Whether it be in terms of relationships, food, water, germs, heights; people have issues. Some people have a few months worth and some people have a few years worth of issues, but still, we all have our things.

I've been pretty open about mine, but just a recap: relationships and in terms of walls, guards, expressing my emotions openly and making myself vulnerable. I'm not good at expressing my emotions about love, like, and affection. I'm not good at letting my guard down and it takes a lot to penetrate my walls.

Okay. So, no need to go into all of that. Nope, this is about how I thought I had gotten through some of my issues and how well, I really haven't been as successful as I thought.

So, there was Math Teacher (please note the past tense.) He was a good guy. I had a ridiculously good time with him. There were three really entertaining dates with great conversation and plenty of laughs. Those are all gold stars in my book. With Math Teacher I decided it was time to be vulnerable, time to let some of my guard down, be all shiny and new with this dating experience.
I let him pick me up from my apartment on the second date. (Although Mr. London picked me up from my apartment on our second date, I DO NOT let men know where I live. That's a no-no.) On our third date I invited him over to my apartment for a pre-date hang-out (absolute no-no) and we eneded up hanging out in my apartment nsetead of going out on the date I had planned. I was open about my like-ness for him. We talked about things that I normally reserve for....well, for when I really get to know someone.

And where did that get me? Well, let me tell you. End of third date: cuddling on the big ugly comfy couch, kissing, telling each other how much were digging each other and a spontaneous "You're very guarded. I haven't figured out why, yet, but you are." I felt like I had been punched in the chest, but I answer with, "Yes, I am. But if you stick around maybe you'll find out why." Pause "..and I'm a lot better than I used to be" this gets a response of, laugh, and not a happy laugh, it was a 'you've got to be kidding me' laugh followed by "you're better than you used to be? Yeah, good luck with that."

Um, ouch.

After a response like that I knew it was over and that it wasn't going to go anywhere. Yet again, he was another man who had put me a box of his making and didn't take the time to really get to know me. Oh well.
I tried so hard to break down some of my barriers and well, maybe that was the problem, I was trying. However, more importantly, maybe with a response like his, he wasn't worth letting my guard down for.

However, that brings me to another of my issues: sabotage.

St. Pat's Day. Out with friends from late afternoon until the bar closed. I ran into a guy I met over Christmas and due to phone tag, it didn't evolve into anything or go anywhere.
St. Pats with lots of green beer and the night it going to lead somewhere.

Cue to an hour or so later and it's me over at his place, sex, him spooning me like I was a life-preserver and me wanting to desperately leave. Not because I was afraid, but because that's what I do. It was just sex, a one-night thing, no need to hang around and swap pleasantries in the morning.
However, it was the middle of the early morning, dark, no idea where I was to be able to find my way out in the dark.
Poop stain.
So. There I lay, in his bed, wrapped up in legs and arms that aren't mine, and wanting to leave. I finally decide to try and catch a few hours of sleep.

I think I caught a few half hours of sleep and later in the week I caught a cold.
Finally with the dawn of the early morning sun, I found my clothes, said goodbye, and made my way out of the bed and into my car.

The point of this story: I haven't done that, random sex, or felt that way in a few years. I thought those feelings, that needlessness, was out of my system. I thought I had gotten to a point in my life where sex meant something. Nope. Still something I am working on and I cannot tell you how much that bothers me.

I'm still a work in progress and well, I guess at least I know that.

inner dork: the merkin

2008-04-09T22:11:00.002-05:00

Again, my most humble dorking apologies that the dorkness has been missing from this blog. I will try to better. I will try, no promises beyond that.

Okay, the merkin:

Did you know, The merkin is a pubic wig. It was orginally worn by prostitutes who had to shave their pubes due to lice or to disguise the fact that they were suffering from syphilis. The term dates back to approximately 1450.

I know! A pube wig, yet another fashionable accessory.

life is getting in the way of life

2008-04-02T13:14:00.003-05:00

ya, know?

I mean, I haven't been this social since, well, since my early 20's (eeck!) But, then there is that whole, I have to type it out and tell you about it. I want to tell you, but then there is that life-thing. My, life-thing, that keeps happening. That, life-thing where I keep saying I won't go out, that I will only drink water, that I won't be out for more than an hour or so, that I still have my Spring Break cold, but, c'mon, my name isn't PG for nothing, you know?

Why, just last week I was all snuggled on my couch, counting the minutes down until it would be an "acceptable" bedtime hour, face washed, contacts out and glasses on, PJ's stepped into, mindless drivel on the Stupid Box, coughing up a Sickville storm. Then, my friends called. And, well, there might be a problem when I make my way out to the bar, without make-up, on a Tuesday, at 10pm...and close the bar down, when mere minutes previously to be called, I was wanting bed.

So. You see, I have stories. Funny stories, sad stories, witty stories, love stories, and cry-myself-to-sleep stories, but....I also have stories about papers and presentations and exams. Sadly, those "stories" have been winning. I know, I know, I don't like it either. But, what can I say, I need to actually be able to find a job once I finish this here Master's degree, you know? I mean, I have bills.

So. Be patient. I'm not dead, just a grad student. I'll be back, I'll be around and the stories will still abound. I promise. I swear. I mean, it's PG, here.

smidge past mid-term, half past done

2008-03-27T22:17:00.003-05:00

Goodness, when you type your life out in updates, it sure goes by quickly. Well, actually, it goes by quickly anyway, but it waxes more poetic to say it the other way.

I've made it past mid-term, past spring break, and there are only a few (short, yet, long) weeks left of my first year, second semester of grad school. Whoo-whee and
gol-lee, I cannot believe it either.
I like the bullet-points, don't you? I mean, it's nice, neat, tidy, you know what the topic is, what it will cover and it just simply goes so much smoother for my quick wit, charm, and sarcasm to fill in the bullet-point blanks that way. So, bullet-points, it is.

Social organizer: I should be in PR. I can get people to organize, rally-around, give time, and themselves to causes and to things. Sure, some of these things have to do with causes such as breast cancer and the food bank, and some of these things have to do with St. Patrick Day celebrations, but still, the point is I can gather the group and give to causes. Those causes may be in the fight to save boobs and those causes may be in, how to damage your liver with green beer. Still, the motivation and power to persuade is there. (Note to self: think about running for some sort of office and use my powers for good.) (Done.)

Sewing horizontal line: Hmm, my stitch and bitch has sort of fallen away, so my horizontal line has become a dot. This does not bode well for the art projects, nor for the quilt that I have been working on for eight years.

Quantitative Research: a.k.a stats: Somehow I am pulling an "A" No, trust me, I am just as surprised as you, probably more so. However, the grade and the class is not the point of this bullet. No, the point of this bullet is about the professor, Ramona. Poor, Ramona. First, her name is Ramona. Poor, girl. Let me tell you about her back-story. Once again, her name is Ramona. I'm guessing she was picked on, a lot, as a child and more than likely spent her lunch hours with her nose in a book. Absolutely nothing wrong with having your nose in a book, just as long as a person pulls it out of the book every now and again to look at, take in, and enjoy some of the world around them. I'm gonna guess Ramona did not do this. Not a lot of social skills. Sure, she thinks she has social skills, she also thinks she has a keen sense of humor, she would be wrong on both counts. Oh, oh, so very wrong. Ramona, thinks she is funny, no, she's just mean. Mean, sense of humor, mean wit. Again, I think this goes back to her childhood, lack of social skills, and eighty-five too many boys knocking the book out of her hand during recess in the fifth grade. (All of life can be traced back to fifth grade. True story.) Ramona's voice also has the sweet, sweet sound of cat nails on a chalk board mixed into the worst possible electric guitar feedback you've ever heard in your entire life. Yep. Not painful at all. We just nonchalantly wipe the blood from our ears as she is being witty and calling us all idiots. Yep, not afraid to ask questions in her class. Mixed in with her voice, her humor, and her teaching style is also the debate over whether or not she is wearing a bra. If she is wearing a bra, it has clearly lost the battle. The bra has given up and the boobs are merely resting on her stomach at this point. I know. I know. I shouldn't make fun, it's not nice, but it gets me through class, and I am managing to get an "A". So, do not critique my mean mocking style, just accept it and move on to the next bullet-point.

Spring break: Already over and gone. I have no idea how it happened either. Somewhere between going out on Thursday, Friday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, it just flew by. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday I was sick. It is a mystery.

Shade-o-riffic tree: We've made peace. The tree won. Because I decided to let it win. Moving on.

Dating: There was someone who had potential.(Math Teacher) (Notice the past-tense) Then, then, he said a fateful sentence, "you're very guarded." (Knock the wind out of me, ricochet my brain around my skull, dust self off, pick self up, cue evil music.) Da, dun, daaaaa! Kiss of death. For him, not me. Pay attention. Sure, I know I'm guarded, but here I thought I hid it so well with my boundless sense of humor, wit, talent, sarcasm, and ability to actively listen and pay attention. Damn it. Those charms, my magic lasso, and invisible plane had worked so well for me over the past decade or so. Now I have to find a new dating superpower. Crap.

Classes: See bullet-point on Ramona, otherwise, they are going okay. In one class, which is supposed to start at 11:00 and finish at 12:15, the professor shows up around 11:07, talks about something completely not relevant to class for about 15 more minutes, rambles about the topic of discussion, kinda, sorta, but not really for about 25 minutes, talks about the discussion topic for about 13 minutes, let's us out of class 15 minutes early. Yeah, I feel I am getting my tuition dollars worth.

GPA: Unless something goes horribly wrong, and well, it is me we are talking about, I should receive as close to a 4.0 without actually receiving a 4.0 and without going over a 4.0 this semester. This is substantially better than last semester, but we don't like to talk about that.

Brazil: I leave in 10 weeks. I leave in 10 weeks!!!!!!!!! I leave in 10 weeks (!!!!) Crap, I leave in 10 weeks. Yep, say that every hour or so and you pretty much have my brain and my sleeping pattern summed up. Slowly, slowly it is all coming together. I am planning on purchasing my ticket this week (the round trip plane ticket costs as much as my entire trip to Budapest. Not quite sure how that math works out, but whatever.) and from there it is getting my visa, apartment there, and everything (EVERYTHING) else together. I am nervous, excited, scared, excited, nervous, and scared, and scared, excited, and nervous.

Portuguese: "Quero uma cerveja." translation: "I would like a beer." Ta dah!(Thanks, Limpy) An American girl in Brazil success story. Hey, if it can work here, I think it should work there. No? Fine. I'm working on it, okay,? Maybe not working on it enough, but I'm working on it. I have ten more weeks to put it off, err, I mean, commit it all to memory, receive a gold star, and charm the locals.

Yellow fever vaccine: That will be part of the next bullet-point list. Something tells me there may be a story about that little live vaccine. That something would be, Hello! Have you met me? It says, "may cause illness." Something tells me there won't be any "may" about it. It's a live vaccine of yellow fever being shot into my body for god's sake! Parents, friends, neighbors will all be put on alert to feed me ice chips and to make sure I don't go running naked around the greater Small State U community screaming, "I lost my invisible plane! I lost my invisible plane!"

So, tell me all about yourself.

a drunk man's words, are a sober man's thoughts

2008-03-23T11:33:00.004-05:00

If only the random phone calls and text messages I receive at 2a.m. had the same courage to be made at 2p.m.

the power of one

2008-03-19T12:30:00.003-05:00

After deleting three different titles to this post, I decided to just write it out here.
The power to both pick-up the phone when it rings and the power to dial the phone. I know, not Earth shattering things, but when you've dated and been hurt (crushed) as much as I have, well, those can be kinda big deals.
As the phone dialer, it takes courage to punch the numbers. As the receiver of the call, it takes courage to not screen and actually pick-up the phone. Again, not changing the world here, but possibly changing the world of one.

Yep. If you haven't already figured it out, I've started dating someone. Still pretty new. (about three weeks) (and if history has taught me anything, admit I am dating someone on the blog and dating someone will end, so.)(but I hope that curse can be broken.) Still new enough that I am trying to not revert back to old habits of sabotage. Not doing so well on that front, as Monday (ala, St. Pat's) I went home with a guy I met that night, after flirting with my guy friends all night, and while dating the formerly mentioned man. Not proud of that moment, but it happened and I didn't do anything morally wrong, maybe just stupid, but not wrong. Issues, who has issues? Get your issues, here!

Last night the dating man, we shall call him, Math Teacher, and I just told each other that we liked each other and that this is a pressure free situation. (Cue sappy music.)
Math Teacher also knocked me on my ass last night (no slap, just a knock) when he told me I am "very guarded...he hasn't figured out why yet, but I am." Ah, yep. Amazing how one sentence can knock the wind from me. I told him I had been hurt a lot and there is time for him to figure it out if he is patient. So. We shall see. (cue, music)(again.)

So, anyway, this week it's about the power of being able to pick-up the phone, maybe make a drunk dial or two, ask someone out, tell them that I like them (sad, but that's kinda a big deal for me. I know, sad.) and to have the courage to not be the cat-lady. Cause, it is a short line between being a happy-go-lucky single gal to being the woman who is bitter and owns at least three cats. Let's just be honest about that. It's about having the courage to not become the cat-lady.

overheard and said

2008-03-16T21:46:00.003-05:00

Overheard: Me in bathroom stall number 1 overhearing girls in stalls 2 and 3
Girl 2: Those guys are really hot. (pause) I wish I would have worn better underwear.
Girl 3: (pause) Ah, I'm wearing Hanes Her Way.
Me trying not to laugh at the girls while looking down at my Victoria Secret. Lesson: Always be prepared.

Said: conversation between myself and a guy I've gone out with a couple times.
Him: "So, what are you doing tonight?"
Me: "A girlfriend and I are supposed to be going out tonight." (I went out Monday, Thursday, and Saturday.)
Slight pause. "Do you go out a lot?"
Slight pause from me "Um, well, that's kind of subjective."
(I mean, I don't think I go out a lot. ya know?)

Overheard: Walking across campus, guy behind me on his cell phone, I assume talking to a friend.
Him: "When are my student loans due?"
Assume the other person says, six months from the day you graduate.
"Yeah, that scares the shit out of me. I cannot even tell you how much."
Me thinking and nodding knowingly, yeah, you and me both, buddy. You and me both.

Said: Last night at the bar when I attempted to leave at an ungodly early hour.
A round table of guy friends. "Holy hell! PG! You are not leaving! Where do you think you're going? Sit your ass down!"
"Okay, I'll stay, but I refuse to have any more fun."
My best guy friend to the waitress "Get this girl a round of shots."
"Oh, okay. If I must."

Said: Best guy friend to me.
"PG, If I pay you $50 will you punch me out with your right breast?"
"Hell, for you, I'll do it for two easy payments and one difficult payment of
$49.99."

Overheard and said:
Said: by my date upon realizing I knew, and love a band he used to do security for. As a matter fact, it was the first bar band I ever saw. "Wow, you just elevated yourself to a whole new level."
Me: "Yes!"
Overheard: by the radio DJ in the room, "Well, that sounds promising."
My thoughts, "Yes, yes it does."

Said: to my table-full of guy and girlfriends:
(My building shares a hot water heater and my water will mysteriously, and without warning turn from a nice, wake-me-up-in-the-morning-temperature to scalding-melt-my- flesh-off and I have a hand-held shower head.) "So, the other morning, while in the shower, the water turned to scalding and I just about burnt my clit off..."
(Yeah, It was worth the reaction at the table.)

inner dork: randomness

2008-03-13T12:47:00.002-05:00

I know, bad PG. No inner dorking, no outter dorkings, no dorkings at all, so bad, so wrong. Bad blog slacking PG.

So, without further ado, here is your inner dorking:

Did you know....

In 1956 the Physical Culture and Sports Commission of communist China recognized the sport of hand-grenade throwing.

During a hundred-meter race, a top sprinter makes contact with the ground only about forty times.

The only sport that takes place on a triangular race-course is sailing.
(I had no idea ponds and lakes came in triangle.)

Eosophobia is a fear of dawn.
(I think I suffer from this disorder.)

A duffle bag got its name because the thick wool originally used to make the bags came from the Belgium town of Duffle.

The difference between a nook and a cranny is that the nook is a corner and the cranny is a crack.
(So, boys, always make sure to cover all the nooks and crannys. Just sayin')

In native Greek, Utopia means "not a place" or "nowhere."

Women's hearts beat faster than men's.

Men get hiccups more often than women do.

Women blink twice as often as men do.
(It was recently pointed out to me, that when I am thinking about something I "blink hard" or, to phrase it better, I close my eyes for a long second. Hmm, I don't think I cleared that up at all.)

A cubic mile of seawater contains, on average, more than $117 million worth of gold and $11 million worth of silver.
(Let's go diving!)

Winters were colder a thousand years ago. In 1063, the River Thames froze for fourteen weeks.
(Yeah, well, I think this winter classifies as "colder". Good Lord, but I am glad spring is almost here.)

The average lifespan of a slug is eighteen months.
(Gosh, but I feel I can complete my day now.)

and last:

Some ribbon worms will eat themselves if they cannot find food.
(And I know some men who wish they could.) (Eat themselves.)

Ta dah! Now, go enjoy your day.

just sayin'

2008-03-10T11:59:00.002-05:00

Cell phones have become the new pocket watch.

Lost the war, concede the battle, win a small victory

2008-03-02T18:02:00.002-06:00

The Shade-o-riffic tree is laden with a thick transparent coat of ice and a fresh blanket of snow, the weight of both forces the branches southward.
As I sit on the middle cushion of my big-ugly-comfy couch, blanket wrapped around my knees and feet, holding the over-sized powder blue coffee mug steaming with a freshly poured cup of heavily creamed coffee, I stare. I stare at the branches through my patio doors and will the wind to blow harder. I murmur my secret evil chant to the Global Gods, “blow, wind, blow.” Hoping against all hope that these words will reach up to the snowy, blustery, heavens and the power of my will combined with the powers of my subconscious will make the heavy branches come crashing down to the ground and I will win a small victory against the
Shade-o-riffic tree.
Fall.
Stare longer.
Will the braches to come tumbling down.
See it.
Will it.
Want it.
If I want something bad enough, I need to see it, envision it, isn’t that what all those psycho-babble Oprah-sheep are always espousing? See it, want it, will it.
Wait, am I supposed to write it down? Is “write it down” one of the things they “bah” about?

In my tunnel-vision determination to bring the tree to a shattering cold death, I realize I am missing a crucial step. I place the powder blue coffee mug on a coaster and I search my crappy apartment for a pen and a piece of paper. In my search I wonder if this is how it started for Jack Torrance. How soon did he go crazy after he and his family moved into the Overlook Hotel? How soon? With the vision of “Heeeeere’s, Johnny!” crashing through my door; the crazy one, not Carson, the word “redrum” pours scarlet in my mind. With shock and horror at what I’ve become, a tree hating grad student, I abruptly stop scribbling my missing affirmation on the shredded cover of last semester's environmental public policy book where the crucial words of "wanted dead, not alive," the last step needed to finish my crucifying bullet, falls harmlessly to the floor. I let out a sad, short, disgusted whimper of shame as I shake my head and lower my gaze to the living room carpet where I notice a few lonely speaks of salt and sand combined with several small balls of black sweatshirt fuzz and I realize that in my all consuming one woman staring contest, it has been awhile since I last vacuumed.

I decide that it is time to concede my battle with the Shade-o-riffic tree. It has obviously been here longer than I and it will be here long after I leave, this is victory enough. I raise my coffee mug in a salute and shout, “Live on, you stupid humongous tree! Live on!”

Moments later I dump the corpse of the .5 houseplant into the garbage and change yet another burned-out light bulb in a vain attempt to brighten my perpetually dusk apartment. During the houseplant burial ceremony I vow to kill trees in another more vigorously sinister way; with the printing of research.

The Power of One: the one woman boycott

2008-02-20T13:04:00.005-06:00

I have my causes, the things I care about, the things I'm not willing to put up with, the things I support. Then I have the things I will not support and the causes and things I boycott. It's the power of the one person boycott. (Bows head, outstretches right arm and raises hand into a fist)
I don't have many things I boycott, but I feel strongly about those that I have.

Wal-Mart. Truly, an evil empire. I refer to this evil empire as The Devil Store. I will not shop there; I do not support the evil empire in any way. Horrible, horrible store. Bad on the environment, treats their employees horribly, many of their employees are on welfare to subsudize their income, yet the CEO's of Wal-mart are some of the richest in the world. Boycott has been ongoing for over five years.

Blockbuster. In principle I just do not care for the store. However, several years ago they charged me repeatedly for late fees that I did not owe and claimed, repeatedly, that I did not return movies when I had. So, perhaps not completely justified, because it has more to do with bad training and store policies than anything else, I don't care. Boycott has been ongoing for over seven years.

A local grocery store chain: Has more to do with the fact that the pimple faced kids do not realize that we all have to work, we don't want to, working is not our favorite thing, but we like to have money, and "Hey, how are you?" is a rhetorical question. Boycott is off and on because unfortunately sometimes I do need to shop there, because, unfortunately I like food on Sundays. (My favorite grocery store is closed on Sundays.)

Ethanol gasoline: It's a horrible, horrible, horrible policy. Ethanol sprawl, water run-off, downstream pollution, still uses petroleum; it is not a cheaper fuel. The only reason it is cheaper is because of tax subsidies. Tax breaks for the gas station owners and farmers. It actually costs more and takes more energy to produce one gallon of ethanol than it does to produce one gallon of regular gasoline. Boycott is brand new, about a week. I've thought about it since this past fall, finally my Jiminy Cricket got to me. Do I like paying more at the pump, no. But regular gasoline burns slower, lasts longer; so really, I'm saving money.

PBS: Okay, I do not boycott PBS. I love PBS. But, I did realize, just the other day, that I listen, watch, and throughly enjoy PBS and NPR, but I never give them money to stay on the air. They are public goods and I am a free-rider. I should stop that. The next telethon I've promised myself that I will give a donation. Just seems like the right thing to do.

So, those are a few of mine. Do you all have any one person boycotts?

Where I'm Going, Where I've Been

2008-02-18T10:21:00.003-06:00

I think it is time for an update on this here thing called my life. A bullet-point list if you will, of all the wisdom, book-learning, wonderful, and self-fulfilling life experiences known as grad school. (Sarcasm and snarky comments may, can, and will be included) (but no preservatives or partially hydrated corn oil.) (There may be some additives.) (This post will only contain the truth.) (Or at least the truth as I see it.) (which is the only truth that matters.)
At times It may also appear in the form of the third person.

Apartment: Still hate it. It's amazing that with all the cleaning products on the market, Madison Avenue has not come up with one that can make a fifty-year old apartment smell or look clean after several hours of cleaning. Notify Johnson & Johnson that they need to add "New and Improved Cleaning Power" to all of their products.

Shade-o-riffic tree: Still willing it to die. The tree is stronger than the powers of my will and subconscious. Number of house plants claimed: 3.5 (one is still hanging on. I don't give it much hope. Two-three more weeks, tops. Notify Earl May.) I have learned that the powers of a tree are stronger than the powers of house plants which need and love photosynthesis.

State University Shuffle: What I refer to my walking pace and speed to and from school each day. Apparently the greater State University area does not have a snow removal, sand, and salt disbursement budget. Thus, everything is covered in snow and ice in various forms of melt, remelt, and shoe imprints; thus I am too terrified to actually pick-up my feet when walking, a shuffle will do just fine.

Parking tickets: I'm convinced I've paid enough in parking fines to at least cover my State University shuffle foot path each day, but apparently I am wrong about that. Bastards.

College aesthetic of beauty: I never really understood why the 18-24 year-olds love the sweatpants and sweatshirts so much. Is it really that hard to put on a stylish top and cute but comfortable pair of pants? I've since learned that this fashion trend serves a purpose. That purpose is that it is breath-freezing-in-the throat cold outside and sweatpants and sweatshirts keep a person toasty and warm. Plus, since it is booger freezing cold outside and a toasty 72 degrees inside, divided by the body heat of 50 college student, added into the sweat that is created from wearing enough layers not to loose limbs and ears lobes, multiplied by the power of a 30 pound backpack, by the square-root of the energy it takes to walk up a flight of stairs, well, I will be a bit glowy by the time I get to class. Hence, the "sweat" in sweatshirts. So, the college beauty aesthetic actually serves a purpose. Who knew, college kids really are smart.

Heels, skirts, matching sets of fun and funky jewelry: Yeah. Those haven't been broken out in awhile. For any confusion, see the above.

Job: I do not have one. I do not want one. I do not want to look for one. I have never had this much free time. I will never have this much free time again. I have enjoyed it. I am enjoying it. I will enjoy it. PG, the no-job-having-girl, I am.

Brazil: My internship has been approved for the summer; I will be spending eight weeks in Salvador, Brazil working with impoverished women and children. Six weeks are for my internship, two weeks will be for me to travel around South America. The organization is totally grassroots. Totally grassroots is government code for, unpaid internship, which means I need to come up with a crap load of money in the next few months. However, I will be doing the kind of work I know I need to be doing, which is helping with health education, sex and HIV/AIDS education, as well as teaching the local children how to read and write. I will also be helping with the making and selling of jewelry to help provide funds for the community. Now, that's not what my actual internship will be. No, I need to do a bunch and a whole lotta research for the actual requirements, but I am hoping to have all non-fun research and writing stuff finished by the time June rolls around, that way I can have the time to do all of the other schtuff while I am in country.

Learning Portuguese: Um, well. I've bought the CD's. I've made flash cards. It's similar to Spanish. ..... Yeah, I'm pretty far from committing any words, let alone phrases, to memory. Maybe I can just put the flash cards on a ring and when somebody says something to me I can just flip through my cards. That seems productive not to mention a great way to make friends and spread the American love.

Drinking: I'm German. That means I'm good at it. I also practice often. The kids here haven't learned that drinking isn't a race and that no matter what, we will all get to the finish line. But, one day they will have this wisdom and they will go far.

Dating: Blech. Boys and guys are stupid, men are not stupid. However, there seems to be more boys and guys than men in this town. And let's be honest, I'm not over the last man. So, I am on a dating break.

Art: A girlfriend and I started a Sunday sewing circle. It's just the two of us, so I guess it is more of a sewing horizontal line, but still, the stitch and bitch is there.

Classes: Oh, yeah, the reason why I am here. Classes and professors are better than last semester, but I don't know how much that is really saying. Taking 10 credits of grad and 3 credits of undergrad (missing a micro-econ requirement) plus, I had the wisdom and foresight to ask if I could audit the dreaded and scary Public Finance class that I will take next spring (apparently one of two classes that most everyone has trouble with and also one of two classes which people fail on the comps) so, 16 credits it is. Did I mention I don't have a job? Other than my Quantitative Research class (a.k.a. stats, formulas, and all things math-like) I am enjoying the classes and should do fine. Hopefully once we move to the computer for the stats class it will become less stomach burning, and tear inducing.

So, even though I've never had this much free time, I'm just as busy as I've always been. So, sorry for the lack of posting, but I've been busy killing trees and reading about all things fascinating and dealing with human rights and public policy. Sure, maybe not the most exciting stuff, but the professors keep telling me that I will actually need to know this stuff cause apparently I will be tested on it. So, there you go.

I had a big emotional breakthrough on my decsion to be here (I know, sounds hokey, but truly, wow, changed everything.) So, after six months of doubt, I'm finally feeling good about being here. Sometimes it's good to say things outloud to friends. Sometimes they can come up with five seconds of wisdom that finally allows me to see all those trees in the forest.

Okay, so, what is new with all of you?

You could use a laugh today

2008-02-06T23:16:00.000-06:00

I was all prepared to write a sad little post tonight; then I remembered Mitch. Mitch Hedberg and how my guy friend and I went back and forth the other night quoting his lines. I then spent the last hour watching old clips of his. I am no longer sad.
Score one for Mitch.
I thought perhaps you could use a laugh as well.
Cause really, no matter what kind of day you are having when can we not use a laugh break?

Always.

We can always use a laugh break.

Enjoy: Hee-lar-e-ous

...and yes, I know I've shared before. Don't be persnikity, just enjoy.

Power of One: Gandhi

2008-02-06T12:00:00.000-06:00

One man who gave his life for freedom and for peace.
Gandhi

inner dork: Milwaukee's best

2008-01-31T13:10:00.000-06:00

As some, dear readers, so kindly pointed out to me last week, uh, where's Milwaukee in all of the beer love?

So, here are some factoids as to why Milwaukee was at one point, the king of bad beer.

Speaking of bad beer, remember Hamms and the Hamms bear? Man, I had a baseball T as a kid that I LOVED. Wore it all the time. I loved those little beer commercials with the Hamms bear. He had so many misadventures. He was so silly...
Do you suppose the Hamms Beer Company was marketing to kids? Huh, do ya?

So, did you know....

Milwaukee did not enjoy any significant advantages as concerned the price or availability of raw materials such as hops and barley.

Labor was not noticeably cheaper in Milwaukee than most other brewing cities.

Milwaukee's water supply did not offer any special advantages for brewing. The nineteenth century myth that Milwaukee water produced a superior brew was debunked by early chemists.

There were no particular advantages associated with transportation of freight in or out of Milwaukee.

Although cooperage (barrels, vats, casks, etc.) was inexpensive in Milwaukee due to the large Wisconsin lumber trade, the savings were not significant enough to provide a major advantage. And anyway, the Milwaukee brewers consumed so many beer barrels that they were often forced to buy them from suppliers outside Wisconsin, thus incurring transportation costs. In fact, frequent barrel shortages in Milwaukee finally compelled the Pabst and Schlitz breweries to join forces and establish the Delta Cooperage Company to secure a constant supply of barrels.

Cheap, abundant ice from Lake Michigan certainly favored brewing before the advent of artificial refrigeration. Ice also stimulated long-distance shipping of beer, since rail cars needed to be packed with enormous quantities of ice to prevent spoilage of the beer en route. But all Great Lakes cities -- Detroit, Chicago, Cleveland, etc. -- also enjoyed the same advantages. Thus, Milwaukee's ice supply can not alone be credited with the developing city's brewing prowess.

What, then, caused Milwaukee to become the "brewing capital of the world?"
The best answer is that it was a combination of a diverse set of factors:

1) Conditions in Milwaukee were just as favorable for beer-making as they were in most major cities. Yet, compared to many nineteenth century brewing centers, Milwaukee's population -- and that of its outlying regions -- was relatively small. Thus, Milwaukee brewers were forced to turn to outside markets to expand sales. This unique problem ultimately transformed Milwaukee's breweries into "nationally-minded" organizations. Once begun, the strategy of long-distance shipping did not cease for Milwaukee's brewers until their beer was being sold in every corner of America.

2) Proximity to the large beer-consuming population of Chicago -- and the easy and inexpensive lake transportation thereto -- was always a boon to Milwaukee's brewing industry. For example, the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 boosted sales of Milwaukee breweries enormously. Schlitz's frequent shipments of beer to the devastated city earned it the slogan, "The Beer That Made Milwaukee Famous." Schlitz enjoyed a 100 percent jump in sales immediately after the Chicago fire.

3) There is no question that certain of Milwaukee's brewers were extraordinarily talented businessmen. While their particular circumstances may have accidentally lead them to aspire to greater markets than most brewers, it can not be denied that the men behind the breweries were savvy, aggressive industrialists. And much of their success was achieved through vision, hard work and sound business sense.

Next week: why beer and cheese make a lovely combination of co-mingling tastes on the buds.

Paul the Penguin

2008-01-29T15:14:00.000-06:00

When I walked to school today I encountered Paul. Paul the Penguin. Nice guy. I thought it was a bit odd to see a penguin out and about in these parts, so I asked him about his relocation to the northern side of the planet. He said that his home in Antarctica was getting a bit warm and he and his wife, Deloris, had heard how cold and blustery the Great White North could be*, so they decided to relocate. As he spoke with some snow blew into my eyes, so I could see his point. Well, not so much see, as my eyes were filled with freezing ice, but I could certainly understand the relocation plan of his family. As we spoke, he told me about his wife, they’ve been married 25 years, two kids, a son Marlin, which I found to be an unusual name for a penguin as it is part of the fish family, but he said it was a an old family name going back to the Mesozoic area. Sure, sure. A daughter, Samantha, Sam for short, who has met a seagull during the relocation program. Paul is trying to accept the interspecies love match, but Deloris is just sick with worry over what the neighbors must be saying.

It was at this point in the conversation that I had to interrupt Paul and asked, "Paul, have you seen my nipples, cause I think they fell off." He shook his head in a sad little way and admitted that he had not, but wished me luck on my search. Personally, I think Paul was lying; I think he had seen my nipples. Perhaps he had only seen them pointing like rock hard diamonds through my coat before they had fallen off, but he had seen them. I just don't think he wanted to embarrass me. Paul is a good man. He seems to be a little too preoccupied by the interspecies dating of his daughter, but he's a dad and his job is to worry. Before I left our conversation, I told him that sometimes there are good things that come with interspecies dating. He asked me to name a few.
The Zorse.
The Ass.
Those were all I could name.

I knew he would spend the rest of the day muttering to himself over the thought of his daughter giving birth to a Pensgull.

*Current temp: -2.
Windchill: -28.
Snow: The snow? It's currently snowing sideways.
How far can the eye see: Not very fucking.

The joy of being a grad student:
my day is "officially" over, I am on my couch, beer by my side. Ahhhhh. (Unofficially my ass needs to be doing homework.)

inner dork: cheers!

2008-01-24T11:52:00.000-06:00

Yay! It's Thursday!

Did you know...

In America 69% of men and 57% of women drink beer.

Beer was often served with breakfast in medieval England.
(As it should be.)

The oldest recipe in existence is a recipe for beer.
(Is in in hieroglyphics?)

Germany has a beer ice cream in Popsicle form. Its alcohol content is lower than that of normal beer.
(Hmmm, ick.)

The makers of Old Grandad whisky produced their product throughout Prohibition by marking the bottles "for medical purposes."
(so, why wasn't everyone that smart? Where were the other PR peeps?)

The coiffe is the metal wire basket that holds a champagne cork in place.

In making bourbon whisky 51% of the grain that is used must be corn.

Jacqueline Kennedy had the recipe for daiquiris pinned to the wall of the White House kitchen; it was the couple's favorite drink.
(As it should be.)

As it is -6 degrees with a windchill of -25, today I think I will make a hot totty to warm my soul, and hands, and nose, and feet, and mind, and....

I want to laugh until I cry

2008-01-23T13:09:00.000-06:00

I met with my professor today to see what I did wrong on my final from last semester.

He was very kind, sympathetic. He gave me six additional points and apologized for not reading my answers more closely.

He sympathized with my problems at mid-term (with the weird guy who claimed he lived in my apartment previously and resulted in a call to the police and an additional lock being put on my door.) He told me I should have told him about the issue at the time and he would have let me take the test at a later date. However, it is now too late to do anything about that test.

He told me I did very well on all of my papers and they dealt with interesting subjects.

I asked if there was anything I could do to improve my grade; any papers, reports, anything? No, but only because others had asked and he told them no; he couldn't make a concession for me. But, I could tell he wanted to.

He could tell I really studied for the final and that I cared. He hemmed, he pondered, he was searching for other ways to help me.

He told me I could ask for the class to be dropped and I could retake the class in the fall.

I asked if the syllabus would be the same and could I just turn in the same papers?

Laughing, he said, the syllabus would be the same in the fall.

I told him I would not ask for the class/grade to be dropped from my report.

In the end, the six additional points was about all he could do. I knew he wanted, he wished he could do more.

What did those six little points do for my overall GPA: it went from a 2.85 to a 2.9.

What does my GPA need, have, to be? 3.0.

I find that 2.9 REALLY freakin' frustrating and I believe it is laughing, nay, mocking me.

I will be laughing until I cry for the rest of the day.

... if you need me, I will be at the bar.

Or, hiding under a blanket on my bed.

Definitely one of those.

...and perhaps muttering about stupid rules and regulations and why exceptions should be made for really smart and cute people....

The Power of One: Those who believed in the dream

2008-01-23T11:16:00.000-06:00

Martin Luther King may have had the voice, but he needed people to believe in and follow the dream.

The power of one man who had the leadership.
The power of each person who was and is a believer.
Together they were powerful.
Together they made a movement.

This is for all each person who have, and continue to, lose their lives and their voices for a cause.
This is for all of those who never had, nor will, be recognized for their sacrifices.

the two words I am longing to hear

2008-01-21T12:37:00.000-06:00

What are those two little words?
Are they; love you, like you, call you, call me, see you, fuck you, fuck me, eat me, dinner, tonight?, you're awesome, you're adorable, you're intelligent, you're beautiful.
Nope.
None of those.
The two words I long, yearn, to hear from someone; more specifically someone who I am dating, are "...and you?"

So simple. So easy. So un-self absorbed. Yet, yet, those are two little words which I rarely hear. Rarely.

Perhaps I am part of the problem, but my attitude and thinking are, if you're not interested, or if you do not care enough to ask, then I do not and will not care enough to tell you.

I know, how silly of me. But truly, if a person cannot muster the verbiage to ask, "Hey, honey, how was your day?" Then where is my motivation to tell you? To me it says, "I don't give a damn about you or about your day."
Perhaps that is wrong, but that's what it says to me.

Where is this coming from?
Oh, why, let me tell you.
After a second date with the Guy Who Does Not Drink, and not being asked one, not one, not one tiny, little, small, smidgeon of a question about myself, my frustration has hit a wall.
I saw the writing on the wall before the first date, but I am trying to break old ways and old habits and see past things and past old behavior of dismissing people before I have a chance to get to know them. So, I went out on a first date. First date was enjoyable, but the only reason there were any words and vocal chord usage on my part is because I would interject a story or a witty anecdote here and there.
Writing on the wall was screaming at me say, hitting me on the head if you will, but I went out on a second date on Saturday. After two hours of no questions being sent my way and several stifled yawns on my part, I knew there would be no third date.

Now, I can see how perhaps this doesn't seem like a big deal. I understand that in a long-term relationship the "...and you?" can go to the wayside. I understand. I've been in a few long-term relationships. But, if the "...and you?" is not there in the beginning, then there is no hope that it will be there in a month, six months, or a year. It just won't happen.
I can also see where you may be saying, "Hey, why don't you just say something to him..." Also an excellent point. However, it's not as if he is the first person that I've encountered this with. It is also not a gender specific issue. There is also the point of, he is in his mid-thirties and if he doesn't know the proper way to carry on a conversation I don't think it is my job to teach him. Hell, I don't want to teach him. There's enough training (from both people) that comes into play with dating, the proper way to carry on a conversation is not one more thing I care to add to the list.

Again, I can still see where you might be thinking, what's the big deal? Sure, I understand. Let me explain: Say you're in school, there is no question as to what I am in school for.
Say, you're new to town, there is no question as to where I am originally from.
Say, you've been to a few countries outside of the U.S., but there is no question as to why, where, when, how, with whom.
Say, you've had a really interesting day, but there is no question as to why it was interesting (or bad, or good, or sad, or happy.)
Say, you went to see a band the night before, but there is no question as to who, where, what.
Say, you're thirty-three years old and left a pretty decent life to pursue the above, wouldn't you be curious as to why? Yet, there is no question to the why.
Say, you are a really interesting person with some really great and lively stories, but the person doesn't know how to get to those stories.
Sure, I interject and provide some of those stories and win the person over with my stunning personality, but my point is that I would like to be asked to inject. I would like the person to care, to be interested enough to ask about me.

So, men, women, all others who read this here blog, please, for the love of god and for all healthy relationships, ask your significant others, whether they be lovers or friends, "...and you?" I can guarantee it will make all the difference in the world. Because everyone likes to talk about themselves. Everyone has stories. Everyone has something to give. And everyone likes to be asked to give a witty story and everyone likes to be asked, "...and you."

inner dork: snow

2008-01-17T12:54:00.000-06:00

As it has snowed, again, here last night, today, and will continue through tomorrow.

As we have reached 18,000 inches in the white fluffy stuff.
(Okay, that may be a smidge of an exaggeration.)
(A smidge, a tad, of an exaggeration, but not by much)

As the windchill is currently -14.

And as I just walked two miles to and fro in the white, non-shoveled, non-plowed, crap of white fluff in that windchill, yet when I got to school I was sweaty. (Dressing for the winter months is a conundrum. Must be bundled-up so as not to freeze, but I will be sweaty by the time I get there, but fingers, ears, nipples, will be numb.)

So, here are some "fun" snow facts.

Based on National Weather Service records for 1961 through 1990, Rochester, New York averages 94 inches of snow annually and is the snowiest large city in the United States. Rochester has a population more than 200,000 and annual municipal snow-removal budget of $3.7 million.
(Good, Lord. See, some place does get 18,000 inches of snow.)
(Again, perhaps an exaggeration.)

Almost 187 inches of snow fell in seven days on Thompson Pass, Alaska in February, 1953.
(Getting closer to that 18,000 mark.)

Each year an average of 105 snow-producing storms affect the continental United States. A typical storm will have a snow-producing lifetime of two to five days and will bring snow to portions of several states.

In the early 1900s, skiers created their own terminology to describe types of snow, including the terms "fluffy snow," "powder snow," and "sticky snow." Later, the terminology expanded to include descriptive terms such as "champagne powder," "corduroy," and "mashed potatoes."
(What, not a term for, sick-of-this-blinding-white-cold-snow-powder?)

In the western United States, mountain snow pack contributes up to 75 percent of all year-round surface water supplies.

Nationwide, the average snowfall amount per day when snow falls is about two inches, but in some mountain areas of the West, an average of seven inches per snow day is observed.
(Huh, I had no idea my state had mountains. Imagine my surprise that my state may, in fact, have mountains based on this "fun" fact.)

The Power of One: Beads for Life

2008-01-16T11:15:00.000-06:00

This was a good weekly feature. It shouldn't have stopped. I need to keep it going.

We forget how powerful we are. How good we are. How good and powerful we can be. One person can and does make a difference. One person in the lives of many and in the life of one, it all matters. Sometimes that person is good, sometimes that person is not so good. Sometimes we harness the power in the wrong ways.

For the most part this weekly Wednesday feature will be about the good in humankind, but sometimes it will be about the bad in humankind, just to serve as a reminder. A reminder that evil can come in the human form and in small ways just as the good can come in good and powerful ways. Sometimes it will be a feature story, other times a link to a cause or a website which I think is trying to do good things in small ways. You may not agree with all of the choices, that's fine. At the very least I would hope, I want, it to generate thought, feelings, emotions, and perhaps action on your part. Big action or little action, either way it is an action and that's all I hope for. That's all I want. I want us all to remember and to know that whether we believe it, think it, or want to recognize it, we all make a difference. Big, small, little, huge, and many times in ways we don't know at all, we all make a difference in this great big giant world of ours and I want us to remember that we make a difference more than we forget that we make a difference. Even if we only remember for a moment once a week on a Wednesday.

This week: Beads for Life