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?)
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
so a girl walks into a bar
...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?
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?
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
...and now a word from our sponsers
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.
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.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
inner dork: Born on the fourth of July
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!!!
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!!!
Monday, June 16, 2008
how to make the bitterness return in five minutes or less
...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?
$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?
Friday, June 13, 2008
water, water everywhere, nor a drop to drink
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.
...
...
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.
Friday, June 06, 2008
so far
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.
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.
Monday, June 02, 2008
the summer of possibilities
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one.
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?
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?
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
drama, trauma, and all things cured with age and alcohol
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.
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.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
...and it all comes tumbling down
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?
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?
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Inner dork (but not really. But kindof, maybe)
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Q and A (with more Q than A)
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.
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.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
I am aware
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.
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.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
inner dork: all things random about, me!
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
it truly is the root of all evil
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.
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.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
issues
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
inner dork: the merkin
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
life is getting in the way of life
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.
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.
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