Tonight was secret santa with my friends from home! It was a lot of fun, we made way too much food (and also consumed way too much), opened presents, ate more food, and then sat around and did nothing (which is what we do best). I had my friend Jaime and I got her a Wall-E thingy that you build which she loved, and some cello music (because I know Jaime and Sarah through orchestra in high school and I played in the orchestra with Natasha in middle school and Kate and I played in the same orchestra together from basically birth until high school graduation). Kate had me and she got me a nerf crossbow (to add to my collection mwahaha) and play-dough, because she knows that when I am taking final exams I would much rather just be playing with playdough, and she loves me dearly and I love her for it.
Natasha and Rob had to point out the fact that people from Connecticut have an accent (WHICH WE TOTALLY DO NOT! you can't fool me), at which point in time I dropped a delicious cookie that Molly made right out of my mouth in shock and horror. Hilarity ensued.
My doctor is concerned that I have high blood pressure. But honestly, maybe my blood pressure is a little higher than usual because it's now been six days since I've been home and I am already ready to go back, finals were stressful as all hell this semester, and only two minutes before we pulled into the doctor's office parking lot she and I were having a rather stress inducing conversation about Hillary coming to CT to spend some time with me over the break. I wanted to be like "sir ma'am sir ma'am, I lead a stressful life. Get back to me in a week when I have seen the mouse and I am all in my happy place." So that's that, I have to go back when I get back from Sunny Florida and get my bloodpressure taken. I'm nineteen, I'm active, I'm always doing something (except when I'm home), I eat healthy, I exercise every day. And I'm nine fucking teen. Gosh maybe something is wrong with me. I don't feel like I am super stressed out all the time, but maybe I am, and I just don't want to admit it to myself. Well whatever, it is what it is. I've felt myself slowly developing a Type A personality over the years. I just need to chill.
So the madre and I talked about Hillary coming to visit when we get back from Florida. Well, basically the conversation went something like this:
Car silence
Me: "So... do you want to hear about my life, or are you happy with things the way they are?"
Madre: "What do you mean?"
Me: "I mean, do you want to hear about my 'romantic life'?"
Madre: "I figured if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me."
Me: "Oh. I figured if you wanted to know, you'd ask. So do you want me to tell you about the girl I'm seeing?"
Madre: "Well I assumed it was your friend Alycia"
At which point I would have spit anything out if I had been eating or drinking, but luckily I was not so it just came out in a series of cackles and wheezes
Me: "Oh my gosh no, I'm dating Hillary."
Madre: "Oh... so what do I call her? What's the politically correct term?"
Me: "Girlfriend is fine. She wants to come down when we get back from Disney, is that alright? And she wants me to go spend some time with her up in Massachusetts."
Madre: "Oh that's fine, she can come here and you can go there. I guess.. I don't know I'm just confused. Where will you two sleep? I had to sleep in a separate room from your father whenever he spent the night at my house or I spent the night at his parents' house."
Me: "That's up to you, but ma, honestly, I'm not planning on marrying her. I'm nineteen."
Madre: "Ohhhh... right."
It was kind of an hilarious conversation for me, but at the same time nerve wracking because she and I don't talk about things like that. And it was good for the two of us to just talk, freely. And now she knows, and I am very relieved, and I am also very happy that I'll be getting to spend some time with Hill when I get back from Disney. The madre still thinks this is a phase and that "no one would want to date a nineteen year old boy" (which I completely agree with, but that's besides the point), but she is okay with it. And she promised me that she will be there if and when I get a broken heart, no matter who breaks my heart. And I LOVE HER SO MUCH for that.
This is turning out to be a fabulous Christmas!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Looking For Suggestions
So everyone is giving me suggestions about what to do about my insane life, and I feel like they all kind of have their own motivations in what they suggest.
MY predicament is that I am signed up for five classes next semester, not including instrumental ensemble (which I decided I can't give up on instrumental because I have a vested interest in that class and I can't live without music). My classes are: Statistics, Research Methods, Child and Adolescent Psychopathology, Medieval Vision (religion and English) and Changing Familes (sociology). I only need to take four courses to be a full time student and to become a junior, and I don't need to take any more psych courses this semester. I have to take statistics and research methods, but the rest are electives.
I also play lacrosse in the spring, and pre-season should start just around the same time that we get back to school. Once February rolls around it will be lacrosse, school, sleep maybe, and nothing else. I'll be lucky if I even get to see any of my friends outside of team awesome.
So I know that something has to go. That something cannot be Hillary, it cannot be lacrosse, it almost definitely cannot be instrumental, and it cannot be Research Methods or Statistics. As a double major, I should be taking Medieval Vision as my English course.
So should I drop Psychopathology, or Changing Families? I know both professors and they are both happy that I'm taking their course. I am not very fond of the professor who is teaching psychopathology, but she likes me and I do well in her classes. I have never had a course with the professor who is teaching changing families, but we've been emailing (because I didn't take the pre-req for the class and I wanted premission to skip the pre-req, which I got) and she is a very nice person, we've met once and she told one of my best friends that she's looking forward to having the two of us in class together. If I don't drop one of the classes, I'll look into taking one or both of them as pass fail.
My problem is I overextend myself, and I think I can handle more than I really can. I can handle a great deal, it's just a matter of my becoming a huge stressed out monster or being a normal human being with a normal work load.
Lacrosse will be good, it's such a stress reliever and I love my team and I love playing. But it's hard to enjoy the feel of the grass beneath your cleats or the way the ball whips into the net or the tension of your fingers around the cold metal when you know you should be studying for three test the next day, or writing ten page papers. Gosh, I love life and I love living and I love being alive, but it's so difficult to remain in love with life when you are being pulled in so many opposing directions.
MY predicament is that I am signed up for five classes next semester, not including instrumental ensemble (which I decided I can't give up on instrumental because I have a vested interest in that class and I can't live without music). My classes are: Statistics, Research Methods, Child and Adolescent Psychopathology, Medieval Vision (religion and English) and Changing Familes (sociology). I only need to take four courses to be a full time student and to become a junior, and I don't need to take any more psych courses this semester. I have to take statistics and research methods, but the rest are electives.
I also play lacrosse in the spring, and pre-season should start just around the same time that we get back to school. Once February rolls around it will be lacrosse, school, sleep maybe, and nothing else. I'll be lucky if I even get to see any of my friends outside of team awesome.
So I know that something has to go. That something cannot be Hillary, it cannot be lacrosse, it almost definitely cannot be instrumental, and it cannot be Research Methods or Statistics. As a double major, I should be taking Medieval Vision as my English course.
So should I drop Psychopathology, or Changing Families? I know both professors and they are both happy that I'm taking their course. I am not very fond of the professor who is teaching psychopathology, but she likes me and I do well in her classes. I have never had a course with the professor who is teaching changing families, but we've been emailing (because I didn't take the pre-req for the class and I wanted premission to skip the pre-req, which I got) and she is a very nice person, we've met once and she told one of my best friends that she's looking forward to having the two of us in class together. If I don't drop one of the classes, I'll look into taking one or both of them as pass fail.
My problem is I overextend myself, and I think I can handle more than I really can. I can handle a great deal, it's just a matter of my becoming a huge stressed out monster or being a normal human being with a normal work load.
Lacrosse will be good, it's such a stress reliever and I love my team and I love playing. But it's hard to enjoy the feel of the grass beneath your cleats or the way the ball whips into the net or the tension of your fingers around the cold metal when you know you should be studying for three test the next day, or writing ten page papers. Gosh, I love life and I love living and I love being alive, but it's so difficult to remain in love with life when you are being pulled in so many opposing directions.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Thurs a Storm A'Brewin
(That's Bryce Canyon, definitely worth the trip if you ever get the chance. I found it more impressive than the Grand Canyon.)
I feel slightly guilty about this weather... It's totally all my fault.
I left Massachusetts blanketed with snow yesterday, ice everywhere you stepped, hard snow crunching beneath your sandals (everyone wears sandals in the snow, right?). Today, Connecticut is being pelted with winter storm Austin. I know Connecticut, it's all my fault, I am eternally sorry.
Personally, I am indifferent to snow. It was fun when I was younger and I could run outside and roll around in it and build snow people, and my big black dog Candy would jump through the snow piles and chase snow flakes (she had a few loose nuts and bolts in the attic). Now it's just... work. Well, at home it's work, because although my mother assures me she can do it herself (and she does and can, as much as that pains me), I like to be useful. And so I shovel, in my sweatpants and my sneakers because I haven't owned snowpants or boots since middle school.
Good luck to everyone in their shoveling pursuits today and tomorrow! If you could, say a prayer for my friend on his way home to Ireland (his flight is this evening out of Boston and I doubt that he'll be leaving on time) that his flight isn't terribly delayed and that it is safe.
Oh, and say one for Hillary and her family and friends too and everyone out there in East Jesus Nowhere, Massachusetts. A lot of them are still without power as a result of the ice storms, and it's a terrible time to be without heat. If there is anything you wish for for Christmas, wish that everyone can be happy, safe and warm.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Commence Winter Break
Today was move out day, the official end of Fall Semester '08. Next stop, Spring '09! It's very bittersweet, because I've wanted to be home so badly for so long, to be with the animals and spend time with the madre and my friends. But I have a life at school, I have friends who I will miss dearly and who I can't call up at any given time and tell them to meet me at the starbucks in the centre of town. I have a girlfriend who I won't see for several weeks, if not a month, because she lives close to three hours away. I'm very torn in different directions.
Alls I know is, I'M GOING TO DISNEY NEXT WEEK FOR CHRISTMAS! We're taking the madre's friend from India and meeting my aunt and uncle down there and spending 5 days there around the holiday. I love Christmas in Disney. If there is any place I'd like to be to celebrate anything, it's Disney World. Except, I like celebrating the birth of Christ at Church, and I'm sad I'll be missing it this year because it's my pastor's last year here, but Disney will be nice.
This time last year the entire family was gathering itself together and meeting down in Disney (at the beginning on January, not over Christmas, that would have been chaos) for the 10 year anniversary of my father's death, and a super huge celebration of his life. His grandchildren were there, his daughters were there, his wife and former wife was there, his nieces and nephews and their children, his brothers and sisters in law. It was epic. I miss those days.
I feel like I have two lives, two lives which converge every so often, but for the most part remain in their separate spheres. It's a strange feeling, but I'm going to miss it when it's gone.
So now I'm home, in CT, pondering my naval and doing nothing but job hunting, going to Disney, and missing my absent friends, and missing Hillary even though it's only been a few hours since we said goodbye. But, I am LOVING the fact that I don't have to deal with statistics or research methods for a whole month. Absolutely loving it.
Alls I know is, I'M GOING TO DISNEY NEXT WEEK FOR CHRISTMAS! We're taking the madre's friend from India and meeting my aunt and uncle down there and spending 5 days there around the holiday. I love Christmas in Disney. If there is any place I'd like to be to celebrate anything, it's Disney World. Except, I like celebrating the birth of Christ at Church, and I'm sad I'll be missing it this year because it's my pastor's last year here, but Disney will be nice.
This time last year the entire family was gathering itself together and meeting down in Disney (at the beginning on January, not over Christmas, that would have been chaos) for the 10 year anniversary of my father's death, and a super huge celebration of his life. His grandchildren were there, his daughters were there, his wife and former wife was there, his nieces and nephews and their children, his brothers and sisters in law. It was epic. I miss those days.
I feel like I have two lives, two lives which converge every so often, but for the most part remain in their separate spheres. It's a strange feeling, but I'm going to miss it when it's gone.
So now I'm home, in CT, pondering my naval and doing nothing but job hunting, going to Disney, and missing my absent friends, and missing Hillary even though it's only been a few hours since we said goodbye. But, I am LOVING the fact that I don't have to deal with statistics or research methods for a whole month. Absolutely loving it.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Bigger Than Me
Life is amazing to me. Seeing my little niece of nephew up on that monitor today, wiggling his or her little arms and legs, his or her little heart pounding away, definitely gave me a different perspective. We're so small, and yet so significant.
I can't wait for the little one to be here, to see the little hands and feet I saw up on that monitor, to hold those little hands.
Everything has been so overwhelming lately. School work is consuming my life, exams will be over on Thursday and then the semester ends and winter break begins. Home for a month of searching for work, hanging out with my friends, and missing Hillary. I've never experienced anything that feels like this before, and it's all so overwhelming. She looks in my eyes and I know she is sincere, and I can see that she can see that I probably definitely love her. I feel so vulnerable, but I like it.
It scares me that she is a senior, and that we live in different states, and that she will be graduating and going to graduate school and forgetting about the girl she is leaving behind. I don't think she will forget about me, though, because I know I won't forget about her. She makes me smile so big, and laugh so much. She holds my hand in front of her friends, she listens to what I have to say about my life, she can hear the joy and the pain, and she holds me and suddenly everything melts away and it's just life, and it's just love.
This love thing is so much bigger than me.
I can't wait for the little one to be here, to see the little hands and feet I saw up on that monitor, to hold those little hands.
Everything has been so overwhelming lately. School work is consuming my life, exams will be over on Thursday and then the semester ends and winter break begins. Home for a month of searching for work, hanging out with my friends, and missing Hillary. I've never experienced anything that feels like this before, and it's all so overwhelming. She looks in my eyes and I know she is sincere, and I can see that she can see that I probably definitely love her. I feel so vulnerable, but I like it.
It scares me that she is a senior, and that we live in different states, and that she will be graduating and going to graduate school and forgetting about the girl she is leaving behind. I don't think she will forget about me, though, because I know I won't forget about her. She makes me smile so big, and laugh so much. She holds my hand in front of her friends, she listens to what I have to say about my life, she can hear the joy and the pain, and she holds me and suddenly everything melts away and it's just life, and it's just love.
This love thing is so much bigger than me.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Calling All Angels
This was quite possibly the laziest weekend of my life, or at least my incredibly chaotic life as of late. Hillary (my girlfriend) and I played house all weekend (she made me cinnebuns in bed), went to the macaroni grill on Friday where we proceeded to eat none of our food (even though we hadn't eaten all day and we had both had exams) and near fall asleep at the table to the point where our waiter (Marc was a cool dude) was concerned about us, and tonight we went to Fridays and ate the first meal since Thursday. It was a good weekend, Hillary and I get along very well and we have a lot of fun. I've never been able to laugh and be silly with someone I was dating before, maybe it's the mark of an adult relationship, or maybe Hillary and I just have something special.
I told her I have never been in love, and I don't know what love feels like. The deepest love I've ever felt is the love I have for my niece and nephew. When I held my niece for the first time in the hours after she was born, I looked God in the face, and He smiled back. That's the realest love I've ever felt in my life. I'm very clueless about romantic love. All I know is that when I look in Hillary's eyes, the rest of the world melts away and it's just us, and complete happiness. I don't know if love is complete happiness, I don't know if love is aching when you know you won't see her for an extended period of time, I don't know if love is taking her hand and running through freezing parking lots laughing, singing David Bowie and Cher until 4 am, watching stupid movies, but not caring, because we're together. I don't know if it's love, but I like it.
Tomorrow I'm going to the Brigham with my sister and my nephew for her ultrasound. I'm so excited that words can't even express my sheer joy. I've never been to an ultrasound before, and I'm probably going to weep. I love these kids so much that it hurts.
Wish me luck, that I don't weep too much and make a fool of myself.
I told her I have never been in love, and I don't know what love feels like. The deepest love I've ever felt is the love I have for my niece and nephew. When I held my niece for the first time in the hours after she was born, I looked God in the face, and He smiled back. That's the realest love I've ever felt in my life. I'm very clueless about romantic love. All I know is that when I look in Hillary's eyes, the rest of the world melts away and it's just us, and complete happiness. I don't know if love is complete happiness, I don't know if love is aching when you know you won't see her for an extended period of time, I don't know if love is taking her hand and running through freezing parking lots laughing, singing David Bowie and Cher until 4 am, watching stupid movies, but not caring, because we're together. I don't know if it's love, but I like it.
Tomorrow I'm going to the Brigham with my sister and my nephew for her ultrasound. I'm so excited that words can't even express my sheer joy. I've never been to an ultrasound before, and I'm probably going to weep. I love these kids so much that it hurts.
Wish me luck, that I don't weep too much and make a fool of myself.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Being Auntie Rachel
I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNT AGAIN!! Number three is on his or her way. He or she is at 11 weeks right now, so fingers crossed everyone!! My sister has had a lot of trouble remaining pregnant, and we are very lucky for my niece and nephew. This little one will be a blessing indeed!!
I'm so happy, and so procrastinating by blogging right now instead of studying and writing term papers (which is why my posts are so sporadic). I can't wait to hold the little one in six months!!!!
I'm so happy, and so procrastinating by blogging right now instead of studying and writing term papers (which is why my posts are so sporadic). I can't wait to hold the little one in six months!!!!
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Life
So I guess a lot has transpired that I haven't blogged about, mainly because it's all been happening leaving no time for blogging.
First of all, today is the big Christmas concert (today at 3:30) and the big semester dance (tonight at 10). I had absolutely no idea that I was supposed to be playing in this concert until Tuesday of this week, when the person who runs the small ensemble I'm involved with on campus said he would have to fail me if I didn't show up (meanwhile all semester he had known I wasn't intending on going to the concert because instrumentalists have no set in the concert, so there is literally no point at all in my being there because they hire a full orchestra and I will merely be in the background). So that was that, I'm pretty pissed about it actually but I'm going anyway. I have to be down there at 11:45 and until then I'm working on homework (clearly) and practicing my violin. What I would like to know is, how can he threaten to fail me when it's a pass fail course that no one even gets credit for. Basically it's a club that shows upon your transcript. Fuckin ridiculous.
The dance is tonight and it should be a great time. I'm going with this girl from my research methods class who I asked to go with me way back when, and this other girl (from my lacrosse team) who I bought at the date auction the week before Thanksgving for 17 bucks, her date (also from the lacrosse team) who she bought at the date auction for 13 bucks, and that girl's date (her best friend). It's basically one big shenanigan. It's actually really funny because I'm not even technically going with my girlfriend, who is technically going with my best friend (also from the lacrosse team). I think she is a little concerned about me going with the girl from my research methods class (who would do basically anything for attention and who hits shamelessly on me all the time) but it'll be fine. Everybody will have a good time.
So yeah, I thought about some stuff and figured out my confusion, and now there is very little left to be confused about. I told her that I know she's a senior, and she'll be graduating and she has a life and she might not even like girls (though she assures me she likes me, she doesn't know if it's just me or if it's that she is really bisexual or gay), but that at this point in time right here and right now I want to be with her, and only her. It's causing a very small ruckus amongst our groups of friends, for example my best friend from school (her roommate) basically hates her guts because she talks about me all the time, and one of her best friends who never got along with me has for all intents and purposes abandoned her as a friend. It's an odd situation but it is what it is. Like she says, we care about each other and that's all that matters. She's a great person and I consider myself very fortunate to be spending time with her and getting to know her on a different level than when we were just friends.
First of all, today is the big Christmas concert (today at 3:30) and the big semester dance (tonight at 10). I had absolutely no idea that I was supposed to be playing in this concert until Tuesday of this week, when the person who runs the small ensemble I'm involved with on campus said he would have to fail me if I didn't show up (meanwhile all semester he had known I wasn't intending on going to the concert because instrumentalists have no set in the concert, so there is literally no point at all in my being there because they hire a full orchestra and I will merely be in the background). So that was that, I'm pretty pissed about it actually but I'm going anyway. I have to be down there at 11:45 and until then I'm working on homework (clearly) and practicing my violin. What I would like to know is, how can he threaten to fail me when it's a pass fail course that no one even gets credit for. Basically it's a club that shows upon your transcript. Fuckin ridiculous.
The dance is tonight and it should be a great time. I'm going with this girl from my research methods class who I asked to go with me way back when, and this other girl (from my lacrosse team) who I bought at the date auction the week before Thanksgving for 17 bucks, her date (also from the lacrosse team) who she bought at the date auction for 13 bucks, and that girl's date (her best friend). It's basically one big shenanigan. It's actually really funny because I'm not even technically going with my girlfriend, who is technically going with my best friend (also from the lacrosse team). I think she is a little concerned about me going with the girl from my research methods class (who would do basically anything for attention and who hits shamelessly on me all the time) but it'll be fine. Everybody will have a good time.
So yeah, I thought about some stuff and figured out my confusion, and now there is very little left to be confused about. I told her that I know she's a senior, and she'll be graduating and she has a life and she might not even like girls (though she assures me she likes me, she doesn't know if it's just me or if it's that she is really bisexual or gay), but that at this point in time right here and right now I want to be with her, and only her. It's causing a very small ruckus amongst our groups of friends, for example my best friend from school (her roommate) basically hates her guts because she talks about me all the time, and one of her best friends who never got along with me has for all intents and purposes abandoned her as a friend. It's an odd situation but it is what it is. Like she says, we care about each other and that's all that matters. She's a great person and I consider myself very fortunate to be spending time with her and getting to know her on a different level than when we were just friends.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Sick
I hardly ever get sick, but when I do I give being sick a whole new meaning.
Tuesdays are my lightests days, thankfully, or else I would probably be in a puddle of tears right now.
I'm super congested, I wish someone would just rip my throat out so it would stop hurting, I feel like my head is probably going to explode. I just feel generally not okay at all, and the scary part is that it feels like it's going to be getting worse before it gets better.
I don't want to get anyone sick, and I particularly don't want to get anyone sick or still be sick before this weekend (there's a party Friday night and a big fancy semiformal dance on Saturday).
I look forward to coming back to my room after class and just sleeping.
Tuesdays are my lightests days, thankfully, or else I would probably be in a puddle of tears right now.
I'm super congested, I wish someone would just rip my throat out so it would stop hurting, I feel like my head is probably going to explode. I just feel generally not okay at all, and the scary part is that it feels like it's going to be getting worse before it gets better.
I don't want to get anyone sick, and I particularly don't want to get anyone sick or still be sick before this weekend (there's a party Friday night and a big fancy semiformal dance on Saturday).
I look forward to coming back to my room after class and just sleeping.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
The Catcher in the Rye
It's my last night at home over Thanksgiving break, and my first night back from Washington.
It was a great trip. I was dreading it for the most part but it turned out alright and we all had a good time and saw a lot of awesome stuff (D.C. really is a pretty amazing city).
There's nothing like knowing I have to go back in a few hours to make me feel like I never want to leave, and there is certainly nothing like reuniting with all of my best friends only to have them ripped away from me yet again. Scattered to the winds, all leading different lives.
I've never experienced anything like this before. I just want to hold them and never let them go and fight life away and fight terrible things away and fight grief and pain away so they never have to feel any of it. I've known grief and pain all my life. I've also known so much joy and so much happiness that you can't even imagine. I know if I hold them and never let them go, they won't experience the pain, but they also won't experience the joy. Which is why I let go when I hug them goodbye, and they go off into the world and they go off into the lives they are creating for themselves and they are happy. And sometimes there is pain and sometimes there is struggle, but the best we can do as friends is to be there for one and other. I hope I've been there for them enough, and I hope they know that no matter what, I am ALWAYS here for them. I will never forget about the people who loved me first.
Driving through town tonight I watched saw lawn chairs splayed out in driveways. Old men who smoke too much, who watch the years go by and listen to the trains die away in the distance. Young people who dream and know and do, who watch the summers fade to falls fade to winters and burst into springs. The lawn chairs never leave, nor do the old men, but the young people, like the train songs, fade into the distance and become a part of the town's memory. We have the distinct pleasure of being living memories, we dreamers and thinkers and doers. It is a great honour and a great burden.
I miss the summer breezes and the way the weeping cherry branches feel against pale cheeks and how the air is perfumed with the smell of azaeleas. I miss bare feet sweeping along the gravelly driveway, and bare heads sitting beneath the warm sun. I can't wait to sit in the lawn chairs again, like the old days, and talk nothing and eat strawberries and blackberries and blueberries. It's like time is stuck there for an hour or two, the town's memory hangs there and we're all young again and we're all great again and we will all achieve greatness and our hopes and our dreams are limitless.
A very happy late Thanksgiving to all and a very merry beginning to your holiday season.
It was a great trip. I was dreading it for the most part but it turned out alright and we all had a good time and saw a lot of awesome stuff (D.C. really is a pretty amazing city).
There's nothing like knowing I have to go back in a few hours to make me feel like I never want to leave, and there is certainly nothing like reuniting with all of my best friends only to have them ripped away from me yet again. Scattered to the winds, all leading different lives.
I've never experienced anything like this before. I just want to hold them and never let them go and fight life away and fight terrible things away and fight grief and pain away so they never have to feel any of it. I've known grief and pain all my life. I've also known so much joy and so much happiness that you can't even imagine. I know if I hold them and never let them go, they won't experience the pain, but they also won't experience the joy. Which is why I let go when I hug them goodbye, and they go off into the world and they go off into the lives they are creating for themselves and they are happy. And sometimes there is pain and sometimes there is struggle, but the best we can do as friends is to be there for one and other. I hope I've been there for them enough, and I hope they know that no matter what, I am ALWAYS here for them. I will never forget about the people who loved me first.
Driving through town tonight I watched saw lawn chairs splayed out in driveways. Old men who smoke too much, who watch the years go by and listen to the trains die away in the distance. Young people who dream and know and do, who watch the summers fade to falls fade to winters and burst into springs. The lawn chairs never leave, nor do the old men, but the young people, like the train songs, fade into the distance and become a part of the town's memory. We have the distinct pleasure of being living memories, we dreamers and thinkers and doers. It is a great honour and a great burden.
I miss the summer breezes and the way the weeping cherry branches feel against pale cheeks and how the air is perfumed with the smell of azaeleas. I miss bare feet sweeping along the gravelly driveway, and bare heads sitting beneath the warm sun. I can't wait to sit in the lawn chairs again, like the old days, and talk nothing and eat strawberries and blackberries and blueberries. It's like time is stuck there for an hour or two, the town's memory hangs there and we're all young again and we're all great again and we will all achieve greatness and our hopes and our dreams are limitless.
A very happy late Thanksgiving to all and a very merry beginning to your holiday season.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Fried Green Tomatoes
The trip to DC was basically uneventful. I drove home yesterday (it takes about two hours from school to home) and then we drove all the way back up today to Framingham to take the Logan Express in to Logan. The flight was very short and very uneventful. We were right on the wing so I had to lean really far back into the person behind me or get on top of the person in front of me in order to look out the window (which I did, cause I have no shame).
I finally finished Fried Green Tomatoes while at the airport waiting to leave this evening. I don't get much time for leisure reading but when I have the opportunity I take full advantage of it.
My God, what a good book. I feel like I've never read anything like it before. I feel like my heart hasn't ached so badly for something to not be over in a very long time. I remember the same ache when I finished The Last Battle in the sixth grade and I cried for a week, not because all of the kids on those beautiful pages I had known and loved for an entire summer had all died in a train crash after seven books (I'm refering to The Chronicles of Narnia in case you are unfamiliar) but because it was over. The magic was over. Sure I can (and do) reread the Narnia stories, but there is something different about reading them as a child, and there is something absent when you reread a story. The mystery is dead, you turn a page and it is the same as the last time you turned it.
The point is, I am very achey right now after having finished Fried Green Tomatoes. It might not have been a good idea for me to read it around Thanksgiving, either, because now I am not only aching at the fact that it is over, but I severely miss the old days.
I miss the old neighbourhood, with Grampa Fred and Mary and the tomatoes that grew bright red along the chain link fence, with Miss Bubba and Turbo who would greet me every day after school. Miss Bubba would take me into her arms and hold me like I was her own little girl, and Turbo the little Sheltie would run across the street and shepherd me onto the sidewalk like a good babysitter. Grampa Fred got cancer when I was five. I still remember being ushered into the house to say goodbye to the man who had loved me like a grandfather and seeing all the machines helping to keep him alive for a little while longer. Mary died after we left the old neighbourhood. Daddy always told me she was alive and well, but after he died I found out he had only been lieing to me, to keep me from being too upset. Miss Bubba always smoked like a chimney. I remember bringing her one of my favourite stuffed animals and telling her she could have it, if only she would stop smoking. She took the toy and told me she would do her best. I went back a few years ago to visit her and saw the black and white dalmatian stuffed animal on the back of her couch, and the lingering smell of decades of smoke perfumed the air. But I think she quit, I have to think she quit. I love her so much still, and I know she loved the little red haired girl who would bring her beautiful leaves and art projects from school. I remember running into Mary and Grampa Fred's house, completely uninvited but completely welcome, in search of the peanuts I knew they always had.
My parents told me of the time that a transformer exploded right outside the house and they couldn't get out of the front gate, so they handed me (I was an infant) over the fence to Grampa Fred and Mary to keep me safe. They were the closed people I had to true grandparents, besides my maternal grandmother who has lost all her faculties at this point in time.
I miss Thanksgiving with my family in the old days. Mom and Dad and I would drive up to New Hampshire to my aunt's house and the whole family would be there. My four aunts and their husbands and my uncle and his wife, my eleven cousins and their spouses and their children, and my grandmother if she could make it. There was a kids table, where I sat until I was twelve years old, and then Thanksgiving stopped being a family tradition and I never got to sit with the adults (SUPER upset about that aspect of this whole shenanigan). And then the family drifted apart, and now we are lucky if we see each other sporadically in the span of a year. We all live up and down the East Coast, from New Hampshire and Vermont to North Carolina, Virgina and Florida.
I just want to hold my Mom and Dad's hands and walk into the warm mud room of my aunts house, being greeted by warm smiles and hugs and kisses that make your cheeks raw and red, hugs and kisses that you dread until they are long gone and then you want nothing more in the world than to be hugged and kissed by your family and your neighbors who you can never see again. I'm not a little girl anymore, I can't take my parents in each hand and walk into the bright kitchen and ask my aunt for a glass of tap water and head down the hill to the trampoline with my cousins. I can't get out of the little red Horizon and watch Turbo scamper across the street and greet me with a wagging tail. I can only see those things in my memory, a memory that I cherish so much these days.
I love and miss you all, my family and long lost friends. You made me who I am today, all of you. Happy Thanksgiving, wherever you are.
I finally finished Fried Green Tomatoes while at the airport waiting to leave this evening. I don't get much time for leisure reading but when I have the opportunity I take full advantage of it.
My God, what a good book. I feel like I've never read anything like it before. I feel like my heart hasn't ached so badly for something to not be over in a very long time. I remember the same ache when I finished The Last Battle in the sixth grade and I cried for a week, not because all of the kids on those beautiful pages I had known and loved for an entire summer had all died in a train crash after seven books (I'm refering to The Chronicles of Narnia in case you are unfamiliar) but because it was over. The magic was over. Sure I can (and do) reread the Narnia stories, but there is something different about reading them as a child, and there is something absent when you reread a story. The mystery is dead, you turn a page and it is the same as the last time you turned it.
The point is, I am very achey right now after having finished Fried Green Tomatoes. It might not have been a good idea for me to read it around Thanksgiving, either, because now I am not only aching at the fact that it is over, but I severely miss the old days.
I miss the old neighbourhood, with Grampa Fred and Mary and the tomatoes that grew bright red along the chain link fence, with Miss Bubba and Turbo who would greet me every day after school. Miss Bubba would take me into her arms and hold me like I was her own little girl, and Turbo the little Sheltie would run across the street and shepherd me onto the sidewalk like a good babysitter. Grampa Fred got cancer when I was five. I still remember being ushered into the house to say goodbye to the man who had loved me like a grandfather and seeing all the machines helping to keep him alive for a little while longer. Mary died after we left the old neighbourhood. Daddy always told me she was alive and well, but after he died I found out he had only been lieing to me, to keep me from being too upset. Miss Bubba always smoked like a chimney. I remember bringing her one of my favourite stuffed animals and telling her she could have it, if only she would stop smoking. She took the toy and told me she would do her best. I went back a few years ago to visit her and saw the black and white dalmatian stuffed animal on the back of her couch, and the lingering smell of decades of smoke perfumed the air. But I think she quit, I have to think she quit. I love her so much still, and I know she loved the little red haired girl who would bring her beautiful leaves and art projects from school. I remember running into Mary and Grampa Fred's house, completely uninvited but completely welcome, in search of the peanuts I knew they always had.
My parents told me of the time that a transformer exploded right outside the house and they couldn't get out of the front gate, so they handed me (I was an infant) over the fence to Grampa Fred and Mary to keep me safe. They were the closed people I had to true grandparents, besides my maternal grandmother who has lost all her faculties at this point in time.
I miss Thanksgiving with my family in the old days. Mom and Dad and I would drive up to New Hampshire to my aunt's house and the whole family would be there. My four aunts and their husbands and my uncle and his wife, my eleven cousins and their spouses and their children, and my grandmother if she could make it. There was a kids table, where I sat until I was twelve years old, and then Thanksgiving stopped being a family tradition and I never got to sit with the adults (SUPER upset about that aspect of this whole shenanigan). And then the family drifted apart, and now we are lucky if we see each other sporadically in the span of a year. We all live up and down the East Coast, from New Hampshire and Vermont to North Carolina, Virgina and Florida.
I just want to hold my Mom and Dad's hands and walk into the warm mud room of my aunts house, being greeted by warm smiles and hugs and kisses that make your cheeks raw and red, hugs and kisses that you dread until they are long gone and then you want nothing more in the world than to be hugged and kissed by your family and your neighbors who you can never see again. I'm not a little girl anymore, I can't take my parents in each hand and walk into the bright kitchen and ask my aunt for a glass of tap water and head down the hill to the trampoline with my cousins. I can't get out of the little red Horizon and watch Turbo scamper across the street and greet me with a wagging tail. I can only see those things in my memory, a memory that I cherish so much these days.
I love and miss you all, my family and long lost friends. You made me who I am today, all of you. Happy Thanksgiving, wherever you are.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Craziness
I feel very awkward about this whole situation that I've found myself in, and it's difficult to express exactly how awkward it is so bear with me.
So I slept over her dorm Thursday-Friday, and then my best friend (her roommate) and my roommate both found out about it. She went home for the weekend, only to come back Saturday evening because she wanted to see me, and I ended up staying over there again Saturday-Sunday. She slept over here last night. My roommate doesn't really care because she knows I like girls and she was my roommate when I was in a relationship (a super messy and terrible relationship) last semester. My best friend just thinks it is hilarious, because her roommate is "straight." Which is what I don't get. How can you call yourself straight when you're sleeping with a chick and you are making it known that you are sleeping with a chick.
Be straight, or bisexual, or gay, or whatever you are or whatever you want to be or whatever you have to be. I wish there was a way to go through that "confusion" phase without dragging people who know who they are and what they want into the confusion.
She's acting like this is a huge issue, like it's a big deal, which it is for her but I feel like most people who are aware of this situation have forgotten that there are two people here: she and I. I know it's a big deal for her because she's never been in a situation like this before, and it might not seem like a big deal for me because everybody on this campus knows I'm terribly out and terribly proud, but I'd just like to know what's going on with everything. I feel very out of the loop.
I'm not even sure how I feel about her anymore. I obviously like her or else I wouldn't spend time with her and stuff, and she is a really good friend of mine. She took me to my first Ani concert the Sunday before last, and we went to Tegan and Sara together (with her roommate/my best friend and my best guy friend), she visited me in Connecticut even though she lives in East Jesus Nowhere, MA, my friends are her friends and her friends are my friends. She is a great friend and I wouldn't trade her for the world, and I especially don't want her to get hurt (and I myself would prefer to not be hurt, also). I'm not even sure if I want to be in a relationship with anyone, or that I am ready to be "the first" for someone (much less a great friend of mine).
Everything is very out of control right now. This "thing" has taken on a life of its own. Thanksgiving break should be good, everybody can just calm down for a few days.
So I slept over her dorm Thursday-Friday, and then my best friend (her roommate) and my roommate both found out about it. She went home for the weekend, only to come back Saturday evening because she wanted to see me, and I ended up staying over there again Saturday-Sunday. She slept over here last night. My roommate doesn't really care because she knows I like girls and she was my roommate when I was in a relationship (a super messy and terrible relationship) last semester. My best friend just thinks it is hilarious, because her roommate is "straight." Which is what I don't get. How can you call yourself straight when you're sleeping with a chick and you are making it known that you are sleeping with a chick.
Be straight, or bisexual, or gay, or whatever you are or whatever you want to be or whatever you have to be. I wish there was a way to go through that "confusion" phase without dragging people who know who they are and what they want into the confusion.
She's acting like this is a huge issue, like it's a big deal, which it is for her but I feel like most people who are aware of this situation have forgotten that there are two people here: she and I. I know it's a big deal for her because she's never been in a situation like this before, and it might not seem like a big deal for me because everybody on this campus knows I'm terribly out and terribly proud, but I'd just like to know what's going on with everything. I feel very out of the loop.
I'm not even sure how I feel about her anymore. I obviously like her or else I wouldn't spend time with her and stuff, and she is a really good friend of mine. She took me to my first Ani concert the Sunday before last, and we went to Tegan and Sara together (with her roommate/my best friend and my best guy friend), she visited me in Connecticut even though she lives in East Jesus Nowhere, MA, my friends are her friends and her friends are my friends. She is a great friend and I wouldn't trade her for the world, and I especially don't want her to get hurt (and I myself would prefer to not be hurt, also). I'm not even sure if I want to be in a relationship with anyone, or that I am ready to be "the first" for someone (much less a great friend of mine).
Everything is very out of control right now. This "thing" has taken on a life of its own. Thanksgiving break should be good, everybody can just calm down for a few days.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
It's a Beautiful Day
The sun is fading through the yellow dusty panes. 3:30 in the afternoon and we rub the sleep from our eyes and stare into blank text books. We travel hallways, bare feet and empty conversation. Blue eyes brown eyes green eyes black eyes, they all look right through you. A cheery coke dangles precariously off the edge of the counter and spills into the heater. The room will smell like burning cherries for years. A pile of books stacked higher than the window fan suffocates us in our sleep, impedes the view of the trees and trees and trees and miles and miles and miles of nothingness and everything, of academia and forest, of higher learning and the places we came from. Basketball shorts strewn across the floor, dvds out of their boxes, out of the alphabetical by genre order they were placed in in September. Candy wrappers and instrument cases. A lonely lacrosse stick that won't see the outside world until the ground is no longer hard with frost. Grey sneakers and brown sneakers and white sneakers, red flip flops and black flip flops and dirty flip flops and worn out flip flops.
I can see the world fading with the setting sun, the trees become shadows and the world looks dark and empty, and suddenly there is only me, and there is only my dorm room, filled with flip flops and instruments and lacrosse sticks and books.
Sometimes I think my world begins and ends from the window sill to the doorway, and then the sun rises and then I step outside and I am amazed. Always amazed.
Today has been a good day.
I can see the world fading with the setting sun, the trees become shadows and the world looks dark and empty, and suddenly there is only me, and there is only my dorm room, filled with flip flops and instruments and lacrosse sticks and books.
Sometimes I think my world begins and ends from the window sill to the doorway, and then the sun rises and then I step outside and I am amazed. Always amazed.
Today has been a good day.
Friday, November 21, 2008
You Have To Be You
I guess this post is about being confused. I've been there before so I know what it's like, certainly. I guess I've just never been the cause of someone's confusion before, that I'm aware of at least. I'm not really in to the general Thursday night festivities that go on on most college campuses, but last night was the exception. Two of my friends and I split two bottles of wine and a bottle of vodka while watching Season 3 of the L Word. Meanwhile, while all of this was going on, I had taken two sudafed not more than 10 minutes before we started drinking on an almost empty stomach and, although I didn't get sick, I did get drunk pretty quick.
I got sick (couldn't stop sneezing, super congested, couldn't breathe hardly through my nose) in the 45 minutes between research methods and lab yesterday. I was so congested and there was so much pressure behind my left eye that I gave myself a black eye (literally gave myself a black eye, I'm chaulking it up to the amount of pressure behind my eye and the fact that I kept rubbing it because it was watery).
So there I was, drunk with a black eye, on a futon with my best friend at college and the cofounder and copresident of the GSA who was passed out on my right and her roommate who was watching the L word with me on my left. Eventually the effects of the sudafed/wine wore off for me, and the effects of the alcohol wore off for theother two, and we were just tired, laying in the dark. I lay there for a long time listening to my best friend's sleep breathing and watching the L word with her roommate.
And then suddenly I was kissing my best friend's roommate.
And then suddenly I was in her bed.
And then suddenly it was 8:30 in the morning and I was walking across campus back to my room. My roommate was sitting at her computer when I walked into the room and all she said to be was "Oh my God Rachel I've been worried sick about you you have no idea you need to call me the next time you have an impromtu sleep over I was worried sick up till 3 am..." (she said this all in one breath) and then she saw my neck and she said "hold on girl you need to sit down and tell me everything," which I didn't obviously because that would be rude, and I proceeded to sleep from 8:30 to 1:30 in the afternoon.
I knew my best friend's roommate was confused, and I know how easy it is to be confused. The girl loves Ani Difranco and plaid, let's be real. Totally kidding, big stereotypage, many apologies. My best friend knows all about it now from when she woke up and was confronted with her roommate's neck. She seems to think it was beneficial for her roommate, which is a relief for me because I feel bad to be adding to her confusion. At least she knows me and can trust me and she wasn't going out and getting trashed and hooking up with some random stranger.
I guess I'm just confused for her. I personally think labels make life easier, but at the same time they oversimplify things. What I told her today I think is applicable to most situations, in regards to her feeling of being pressured into choosing a category for herself from the day she entered college (she is now a senior): Going to a women's college doesn't make you a lesbian, liking girls doesn't make you a lesbian and even sleeping with girls doesn't make you a lesbian. As much as I joke about it, you are what you are and what you identify yourself as and that's that. You can't be what anyone else wants to classify you as, you have to be you.
I really like her, but I think I really like her as a friend, which is where my own confusion comes in to play. Not to mention the fact that I don't think she is interested in dating anyone (male or female), I think she is interested in discovering who she is, and I'm glad I could play a role, even a small role, in the formulation of her own self image, and that she could play a role in mine.
It's just a lot to think about, and I tend to overthink things far too much as it is.
"...or if the weather was bad, you could just sit under the yellow light on your front porch and enjoy the sound of the rain hitting the tin roofs."
- Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe
I got sick (couldn't stop sneezing, super congested, couldn't breathe hardly through my nose) in the 45 minutes between research methods and lab yesterday. I was so congested and there was so much pressure behind my left eye that I gave myself a black eye (literally gave myself a black eye, I'm chaulking it up to the amount of pressure behind my eye and the fact that I kept rubbing it because it was watery).
So there I was, drunk with a black eye, on a futon with my best friend at college and the cofounder and copresident of the GSA who was passed out on my right and her roommate who was watching the L word with me on my left. Eventually the effects of the sudafed/wine wore off for me, and the effects of the alcohol wore off for theother two, and we were just tired, laying in the dark. I lay there for a long time listening to my best friend's sleep breathing and watching the L word with her roommate.
And then suddenly I was kissing my best friend's roommate.
And then suddenly I was in her bed.
And then suddenly it was 8:30 in the morning and I was walking across campus back to my room. My roommate was sitting at her computer when I walked into the room and all she said to be was "Oh my God Rachel I've been worried sick about you you have no idea you need to call me the next time you have an impromtu sleep over I was worried sick up till 3 am..." (she said this all in one breath) and then she saw my neck and she said "hold on girl you need to sit down and tell me everything," which I didn't obviously because that would be rude, and I proceeded to sleep from 8:30 to 1:30 in the afternoon.
I knew my best friend's roommate was confused, and I know how easy it is to be confused. The girl loves Ani Difranco and plaid, let's be real. Totally kidding, big stereotypage, many apologies. My best friend knows all about it now from when she woke up and was confronted with her roommate's neck. She seems to think it was beneficial for her roommate, which is a relief for me because I feel bad to be adding to her confusion. At least she knows me and can trust me and she wasn't going out and getting trashed and hooking up with some random stranger.
I guess I'm just confused for her. I personally think labels make life easier, but at the same time they oversimplify things. What I told her today I think is applicable to most situations, in regards to her feeling of being pressured into choosing a category for herself from the day she entered college (she is now a senior): Going to a women's college doesn't make you a lesbian, liking girls doesn't make you a lesbian and even sleeping with girls doesn't make you a lesbian. As much as I joke about it, you are what you are and what you identify yourself as and that's that. You can't be what anyone else wants to classify you as, you have to be you.
I really like her, but I think I really like her as a friend, which is where my own confusion comes in to play. Not to mention the fact that I don't think she is interested in dating anyone (male or female), I think she is interested in discovering who she is, and I'm glad I could play a role, even a small role, in the formulation of her own self image, and that she could play a role in mine.
It's just a lot to think about, and I tend to overthink things far too much as it is.
"...or if the weather was bad, you could just sit under the yellow light on your front porch and enjoy the sound of the rain hitting the tin roofs."
- Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe
Live and Live and Live
Fight hate with love. Fight death with life.
I went to bed at 8:30 this morning and woke up at 1:30 this afternoon, almost positive that depression was setting in. I blame myself for his death in many ways. I don't have a magic cancer wand that I waved to get him sick, but I was little and a lot of it I didn't understand, didn't want to understand. I wasn't in the room when he died, but I felt it down the hall in the kitchen with my uncles, drinking beer and talking old times. "How's your father?" "Good, I said," and went back to his room. I felt him die in my heart between the kitchen and his hospital room.
I didn't understand that they wanted him to be cremated. I wanted him to be put in the ground with flowers and grass and a headstone that I could visit. I visit George in the winter now, this year will be two years, and I touch the frozen earth with my fingertips, the same fingertips that whisper sad notes from my violin. Cancer took two of the greatest men I ever knew.
I listened to the hum of the machines, the whirring and the silent salty tears that dropped onto the bed sheets and the carpet and the windowsill. Circle of Life came on the radio and then, by the son's end, he was gone.
I miss the jokes he used to tell more than anything, and the way he smelled when he hugged me, and the sound of his voice calling my name from across the yard.
I just want to live and live and live and never have to deal with the consequence of life. I want to love and love and love and never have to face the reality of hate.
I went to bed at 8:30 this morning and woke up at 1:30 this afternoon, almost positive that depression was setting in. I blame myself for his death in many ways. I don't have a magic cancer wand that I waved to get him sick, but I was little and a lot of it I didn't understand, didn't want to understand. I wasn't in the room when he died, but I felt it down the hall in the kitchen with my uncles, drinking beer and talking old times. "How's your father?" "Good, I said," and went back to his room. I felt him die in my heart between the kitchen and his hospital room.
I didn't understand that they wanted him to be cremated. I wanted him to be put in the ground with flowers and grass and a headstone that I could visit. I visit George in the winter now, this year will be two years, and I touch the frozen earth with my fingertips, the same fingertips that whisper sad notes from my violin. Cancer took two of the greatest men I ever knew.
I listened to the hum of the machines, the whirring and the silent salty tears that dropped onto the bed sheets and the carpet and the windowsill. Circle of Life came on the radio and then, by the son's end, he was gone.
I miss the jokes he used to tell more than anything, and the way he smelled when he hugged me, and the sound of his voice calling my name from across the yard.
I just want to live and live and live and never have to deal with the consequence of life. I want to love and love and love and never have to face the reality of hate.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
It's Good to be the King
My video won second place tonight!! I got three DVDs (Zoolander, School of Rock, and Talladega Nights) and a bunch of candy/popcorn and hot chocolate. I am SO PUMPED.
I'm splitting the winnings with my partner in crime, whose name is also Rachel (we go by "Rachel Squared"). She gets the DVDs, I get the candy, and everything is right with the world. I am thoroughly loving life right now.
I'd show you the video but it is definitely not something I am proud of, and honestly did not want the entire school to see it, but it was accosted. Anywho, YAY!
I'm splitting the winnings with my partner in crime, whose name is also Rachel (we go by "Rachel Squared"). She gets the DVDs, I get the candy, and everything is right with the world. I am thoroughly loving life right now.
I'd show you the video but it is definitely not something I am proud of, and honestly did not want the entire school to see it, but it was accosted. Anywho, YAY!
Don't Loose the Dreams Inside Your Head
There is a family of deer living in the woods behind my dorm. When I'm walking across the parking lot late at night, I see them on the grass and in the trees munching on the grass. I can't tell if I've seen a male or not (I'm nearsighted), or if they are two females and a baby. The little one isn't very little, but he's young. It's comforting to come home to them in the yard on the nights which are becoming progressively colder. It's kind of like, even when I am alone in the middle of the night in academia, I'm not really alone. They're very beautiful and I hope they stay warm.
I'm pretty thrilled with how my week has been going. On Sunday when I got back from the concert I searched desperately for my sickest friends and counted out how many of my allergy pills I could take before I needed to be hospitalized so I might be terribly ill, but not die. Then I tried to determine how much cherry coke I would have to drink in order to stay awake for four days straight. Of course, I'm totally kidding about all of this. I just really didn't want this week to exist and I bitched and moaned about it a lot.
But all my work has gotten done, I've taken two exams, handed in a five page paper (which I wrote while watching Wall-E and Heathers with my friends in a very noisy lounge, so mad props to me), gone to the gym, and managed to get eight hours of sleep every night.
Tonight they're doing a competition at my school for the college's funniest videos. My entry comes from last year when, during a night of complete boredom, my friend and I danced and sang along to the song "Let's Get Fucked Up." My RD saw it on youtube last year and emailed me over spring break. After I awoke from the coma that put me in, I emailed her back and asked if I should even bother coming back to school. Luckily, Jess thought it was the funniest thing she'd seen in a long time, and this year she wouldn't let me not enter it in the competition. I hope we win!!
We had Thanksgiving dinner here last night (it was DELICIOUS) it was sooooo good to have a good meal for once. When everyone was eating I said "God bless us, every one," just cause I'm a goof and some chick goes "wrong holiday." Who the hell says that? Maybe it is from Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol but let's be real; I can say "God bless us, everyone one" any time I want. I wasn't referencing Dickens, I was simply saying "God bless us." Is it a crime to wish that God would bless my friends and I? It made me a little disgruntled.
I really don't want to go to DC for Thanksgiving. I wish I could just stay home and hang out with my friends. I haven't seen my best friend since August and the way things are going, I probably won't be seeing her until December. It'll be a nice little break though, I think everybody around here could use it.
It's too cold to be outside, which is sad. I hope it's warmer in DC, but I'm not expecting any miracles.
Take care out there!
I'm pretty thrilled with how my week has been going. On Sunday when I got back from the concert I searched desperately for my sickest friends and counted out how many of my allergy pills I could take before I needed to be hospitalized so I might be terribly ill, but not die. Then I tried to determine how much cherry coke I would have to drink in order to stay awake for four days straight. Of course, I'm totally kidding about all of this. I just really didn't want this week to exist and I bitched and moaned about it a lot.
But all my work has gotten done, I've taken two exams, handed in a five page paper (which I wrote while watching Wall-E and Heathers with my friends in a very noisy lounge, so mad props to me), gone to the gym, and managed to get eight hours of sleep every night.
Tonight they're doing a competition at my school for the college's funniest videos. My entry comes from last year when, during a night of complete boredom, my friend and I danced and sang along to the song "Let's Get Fucked Up." My RD saw it on youtube last year and emailed me over spring break. After I awoke from the coma that put me in, I emailed her back and asked if I should even bother coming back to school. Luckily, Jess thought it was the funniest thing she'd seen in a long time, and this year she wouldn't let me not enter it in the competition. I hope we win!!
We had Thanksgiving dinner here last night (it was DELICIOUS) it was sooooo good to have a good meal for once. When everyone was eating I said "God bless us, every one," just cause I'm a goof and some chick goes "wrong holiday." Who the hell says that? Maybe it is from Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol but let's be real; I can say "God bless us, everyone one" any time I want. I wasn't referencing Dickens, I was simply saying "God bless us." Is it a crime to wish that God would bless my friends and I? It made me a little disgruntled.
I really don't want to go to DC for Thanksgiving. I wish I could just stay home and hang out with my friends. I haven't seen my best friend since August and the way things are going, I probably won't be seeing her until December. It'll be a nice little break though, I think everybody around here could use it.
It's too cold to be outside, which is sad. I hope it's warmer in DC, but I'm not expecting any miracles.
Take care out there!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Still Numb After All These Years
Friday is the eleven year anniversary of my father's death.
Cancer doesn't know about daddies, or moms, or brothers and sisters, or grandmothers, or uncles, or cats or dogs. Cancer knows life, and it will stop at nothing to destroy it.
I watched for two years as my father slowly wasted away, and eventually died right before my eyes. I felt his hand soften in mine and go limp; his hands that held me high in the air, that tossed baseballs for me, that sewed patches to my girl scout vest.
I often wonder what our lives would be like today if he had never died, if he had never been sick. So much of my life and my mother's life and my sister's life is a response to his sickness and death.
I can't help but feel like I'm always missing something. I miss the man who told his seven year old daughter fart jokes, who lifted me up so I could dunk a basketball, who danced with me on his feet in the kitchen, who held my mother close and wished he never had to let go. He didn't want to have to let go. He loved life so so so much and he had the world to live for. I've come to terms with it over the last eleven years in my own way, in the smiles of his grandchildren, whenever the leaves rustle on a breezy day, when the air is still and the world is quiet, when someone's eyes say "I love you," when my hand feels warm on a cold winter day, and I know my daddy is there with me.
But I wish he could see us now, see how far we've come, see how much we love life even in his long absense. I know that he sees us, but I wish he were here experiencing this amazing life with us.
It doesn't get easier, it never gets easier. There are dozens of things I wish I could tell him, tons of things I want him to say to me. I wish I could see him hold his grandchildren. I wish he could hold my mother's hand one more time. I wish I could dance on his feet in the kitchen again.
It's just not fair.
Cancer doesn't know about daddies, or moms, or brothers and sisters, or grandmothers, or uncles, or cats or dogs. Cancer knows life, and it will stop at nothing to destroy it.
I watched for two years as my father slowly wasted away, and eventually died right before my eyes. I felt his hand soften in mine and go limp; his hands that held me high in the air, that tossed baseballs for me, that sewed patches to my girl scout vest.
I often wonder what our lives would be like today if he had never died, if he had never been sick. So much of my life and my mother's life and my sister's life is a response to his sickness and death.
I can't help but feel like I'm always missing something. I miss the man who told his seven year old daughter fart jokes, who lifted me up so I could dunk a basketball, who danced with me on his feet in the kitchen, who held my mother close and wished he never had to let go. He didn't want to have to let go. He loved life so so so much and he had the world to live for. I've come to terms with it over the last eleven years in my own way, in the smiles of his grandchildren, whenever the leaves rustle on a breezy day, when the air is still and the world is quiet, when someone's eyes say "I love you," when my hand feels warm on a cold winter day, and I know my daddy is there with me.
But I wish he could see us now, see how far we've come, see how much we love life even in his long absense. I know that he sees us, but I wish he were here experiencing this amazing life with us.
It doesn't get easier, it never gets easier. There are dozens of things I wish I could tell him, tons of things I want him to say to me. I wish I could see him hold his grandchildren. I wish he could hold my mother's hand one more time. I wish I could dance on his feet in the kitchen again.
It's just not fair.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Little Plastic Castles
Ani Difranco rocked my socks clean off my feet (yes, I was wearing shoes, I know what is becoming of my life??!) tonight at Symphony Hall. It is now 1 am and I only just got back to campus. The t was basically packed with family both to and from the concert, which only added to the joy of this weekend for me.
Ani did not, however, play my favorite song "Angry Anymore" which made me ruther disgruntled. But I'll forgive her because she is an amazing musician (and she has a damn sexy drummer, that's right Allison I'm talking about you don't think I didn't catch your name girl).
Oh Boston, I love you so so so very much. Boston and East Jesus Nowhere Hole in the Wall, Connecticut, home to the great times of my youth. I, sadly, do not have any upcoming concert plans to look forward to (I'm waiting for Melissa Etheridge to go back on tour because I would bascially kill fight or die to see Melissa in concert). I'll keep you posted on the concert scene. The next thing in my upcoming events is the Harvey Milk movie coming out December 5. I'm bringing the entire gsa and company.
I feel so good right now, about everything. I got a lot of stuff off my chest tonight that has been bugging for a good long time and now I don't have it on my conscience anymore and it feels great.
Well, I was up at 7:30 this morning because I had to play el violin at mass (which was hilariously full of antics including knocking an amp over and making a huge gong like ringing sound echoing throughout the entire chapel) and I am super sleepy right now. I probably definitely did not do justice to the glory that is Ani Difranco, but rest assured I love her dearly and had the time of my life tonight (but I have the time of my life everywhere I go).
Sweet dreams world.
I recognized your silhoutte
As you walked out of the sun and sat down
And the sight of your sleepy smile eclipsed all the other people
As they paused to sneer at the two girls from out of town
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Protest Protest Protest
The thousands of protestors
I was getting nervous just watching them up there
LOL
Supportive Mormons<3
THE GAYS LOVE YOU TOO WELLESLEY!!
A small child there with his fathers with the cutest umbrella ever
More people
The pre-rally lull
The protest in Boston was nothing short of a supreme success for the community. There were congresspeople, senators (Ted Kennedy wasn't there, sadly, but he was definitely there in spirit), community organizers, students, husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, friends, family, everyone. Everyone was there in love and support. The feeling of being among friends was truly overwhelming. The rain couldn't keep us away.
As we borded the t, going back to our corners of Massachusetts and the world, there was a sense of completeness. We had sung and danced and chanted. Our voices were heard. We're mad as hell, and we're not going to stand for it. This is something bigger than ourselves, bigger than just us. This is for us, this is for our families. This is for the ones who came before us whose voices were never heard, and the ones who will come, in the hopes that they will use their voices, that they will speak out against injustice. This is so that the world will see that we aren't just bigots here in this country, and we aren't silent either. We can't be scared back into the closet. We aren't going away.
There are more protests to come. The greatest gift we can give to the nation that granted us freedom:
Protest. Protest. Protest.
I have over sixty photos of the protest and several videos, which I'll load onto my youtube account sometime soon and post here. Thanks to everyone who went out and protested today.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
What a Wonderful Dream
I bought and watched Fried Green Tomatoes last night, which I've seen about a bagillion times on TV but I've never actually sat down and just watched it all the way through. It's a very well done movie and Mary Stuart Masterson is nothing short of drop dead gorgeous.
After having watched the movie, though, I decided I really needed to read the book so I had something to go off of.
OH. MY. GOD. The book is SO good. I work from 5-8 on Thursdays and I literally spent 2.5 hours reading that book, so much so that I didn't even notice when massive amounts of people came in to the student success centre. It's so good, I cannot put it down. Like most novels that are turned into movies, the movie is nothing like the book. I feel like, in many ways, the two could stand alone.
The Ally Panel went extremely well! We had three lesbians, one gay man, one bisexual, one questioning person, and an entire audience of all different genders, races, faiths, perceptions and orientations. Everyone who was there said it was a great success and they look forward to more in the future. According to many people in the audience they learned a lot, particularly about the support that GLBTQ people need. One girl told me she had no idea of how difficult it really is for GLBTQ youth, and her perception was changed. She also voted for McCain, which is an indicator of what's going on (or not going on) in her head.
I'm still really excited about the protest on Saturday, but people seem to be nervous about it. Why is everyone so nervous, people rallied all the times in the 60's and 70's and eventually were granted their rights. My best friend told me, and I quote to "run as though you are being chased by zombies" (because she knows about my unnatural fear of zombies as a result of watching far too many horror movies with Molly cause she thinks she is oh so hardcore, and I know you're reading this right now Molly) in the event that something goes down.
My mother (who is being slightly douchey for some reason lately, and I'm just going to assume she is wicked stressed at work at that I didn't somehow screw up again per usual) is worried about the rally, but she said she was going to go in to Hartford to see if there was one there this weekend (doubtful, Hartford sucks when it comes to things like this). She gets very testy when I talk about the GSA, and she has no interest at all in hearing about what is going on with the club I created, or in the life I am living in reality. She just skims the surface. But that's her I guess.
They brought up the issue of coming out to parents at the ally panel, and as much as I didn't really discuss it because it is a little too fresh for me, I did say that there was a palpible sense of relief when I came out to my mother and my sister. I know they both knew and were perhaps waiting for me to come out to them, perhaps waiting for me to bring a girl home, perhaps waiting for me to become a nun. Whereas my sister's relief turned in to happiness; happiness that I am happy in the life I am leading and the relief I have personally found in being myself, my mother's relief turned in to a kind of anger that I can't quite put my finger on. She doesn't want to talk about it, and it is very obvious. Maybe she is angry that she let me turn nineteen before she discussed this with me. Maybe she is angry that I even came out in the first place, or that she wasn't the first person I told. I'm not sure what her issue is, I can't understand her for the life of me.
I feel like my blogs always kind of take on a negative vibe but I totally do not mean for them to do that at all. It's hard for me to make things funny here because most of the funny things that go on in my life are inside jokes and would make absolutely no sense to anyone else. For example, when I ran to the bathroom tonight because I was literally about to pee my pants from laughing so hard at an impression my best friend at school did of a chick who lives down the hall from her. It was by far the hardest I have laughed in a very long time.
I'll leave you with this, so you can maybe get a sense of the real Rachel
After having watched the movie, though, I decided I really needed to read the book so I had something to go off of.
OH. MY. GOD. The book is SO good. I work from 5-8 on Thursdays and I literally spent 2.5 hours reading that book, so much so that I didn't even notice when massive amounts of people came in to the student success centre. It's so good, I cannot put it down. Like most novels that are turned into movies, the movie is nothing like the book. I feel like, in many ways, the two could stand alone.
The Ally Panel went extremely well! We had three lesbians, one gay man, one bisexual, one questioning person, and an entire audience of all different genders, races, faiths, perceptions and orientations. Everyone who was there said it was a great success and they look forward to more in the future. According to many people in the audience they learned a lot, particularly about the support that GLBTQ people need. One girl told me she had no idea of how difficult it really is for GLBTQ youth, and her perception was changed. She also voted for McCain, which is an indicator of what's going on (or not going on) in her head.
I'm still really excited about the protest on Saturday, but people seem to be nervous about it. Why is everyone so nervous, people rallied all the times in the 60's and 70's and eventually were granted their rights. My best friend told me, and I quote to "run as though you are being chased by zombies" (because she knows about my unnatural fear of zombies as a result of watching far too many horror movies with Molly cause she thinks she is oh so hardcore, and I know you're reading this right now Molly) in the event that something goes down.
My mother (who is being slightly douchey for some reason lately, and I'm just going to assume she is wicked stressed at work at that I didn't somehow screw up again per usual) is worried about the rally, but she said she was going to go in to Hartford to see if there was one there this weekend (doubtful, Hartford sucks when it comes to things like this). She gets very testy when I talk about the GSA, and she has no interest at all in hearing about what is going on with the club I created, or in the life I am living in reality. She just skims the surface. But that's her I guess.
They brought up the issue of coming out to parents at the ally panel, and as much as I didn't really discuss it because it is a little too fresh for me, I did say that there was a palpible sense of relief when I came out to my mother and my sister. I know they both knew and were perhaps waiting for me to come out to them, perhaps waiting for me to bring a girl home, perhaps waiting for me to become a nun. Whereas my sister's relief turned in to happiness; happiness that I am happy in the life I am leading and the relief I have personally found in being myself, my mother's relief turned in to a kind of anger that I can't quite put my finger on. She doesn't want to talk about it, and it is very obvious. Maybe she is angry that she let me turn nineteen before she discussed this with me. Maybe she is angry that I even came out in the first place, or that she wasn't the first person I told. I'm not sure what her issue is, I can't understand her for the life of me.
I feel like my blogs always kind of take on a negative vibe but I totally do not mean for them to do that at all. It's hard for me to make things funny here because most of the funny things that go on in my life are inside jokes and would make absolutely no sense to anyone else. For example, when I ran to the bathroom tonight because I was literally about to pee my pants from laughing so hard at an impression my best friend at school did of a chick who lives down the hall from her. It was by far the hardest I have laughed in a very long time.
I'll leave you with this, so you can maybe get a sense of the real Rachel
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Random Weekly Update
Tonight was the honours banquet, and it was super intense. The food was delish and the company and conversation were very good (it was good to get away from the chaos of classes for a few hours and just sit around and talk).
The speaker was so intense though. She's a sociology professor who specialises in abuse survivors and abusers. She gave us lots of web sites to help others or help ourselves, including RAINN, of which I am a big supporter. RAINN does wonderful work.
Abuse is everywhere and it effects so many lives. Both sets of my parents' parents came from very abusive relationships. My father's parents were terribly abusive to one and other, and psychologically abusive to their three sons. My mother's father constantly abused his wife (my grandmother) and his only son and psychologically abused his five daughters. He died of a heart attack when my mother was fifteen. My grandmother, as a result of his abuse, has had several strokes.
Neither of my parents every abused each other or me. They broke the cycle with themselves. But it's not okay to live with abuse. My grandparents shouldn't have had to deal with that behaviour, and neither should my mother and father, or my aunts or uncles. It is a serious problem and it needs to be stopped. It was interesting looking at it from a sociological perspective, though. What makes people become abusers, etc.
This issue is very personal to me for a variety of reasons which I don't want to bring up, which made the banquet a little more than uncomfortable. I hope I didn't give the speaker the wrong impression, I really wasn't bored at all and I was paying attention but there is a fine line between looking thoroughly bored and trying to not be ill. It's difficult to describe what was discussed at the banquet to people who were not there, so just take my word for it, it was intense.
I'm actually taking a class with the woman who spoke tonight next semester, called Changing Families. It sounds like a fantastic course. It doesn't go towards either of my majors so I'm hoping it's at least insightful.
The ally panel is tomorrow (!!) and I'm soo nervous and anxious and excited. I'm Rachel to my friends, but I don't know everyone who is going to be at the panel. I want to be Rachel to them, I don't want to be anything that they perceive about me from what is said at the panel. I'm just Rachel. The panel is necessary, a lot of people don't have anyone to put a face to when it comes to GLBTQ issues. We share the same dorms, the same halls, the same classrooms, the table in the cafeteria. I just want everyone to see that our differences make us the same. We're not all the same person, even straight people aren't the same. But we all love, and that's what brings us together.
They'll name a city after us
And later say it's all our fault
Then they'll give us a talking to
Then they'll give us a talking to
Because they've got years of experience
The speaker was so intense though. She's a sociology professor who specialises in abuse survivors and abusers. She gave us lots of web sites to help others or help ourselves, including RAINN, of which I am a big supporter. RAINN does wonderful work.
Abuse is everywhere and it effects so many lives. Both sets of my parents' parents came from very abusive relationships. My father's parents were terribly abusive to one and other, and psychologically abusive to their three sons. My mother's father constantly abused his wife (my grandmother) and his only son and psychologically abused his five daughters. He died of a heart attack when my mother was fifteen. My grandmother, as a result of his abuse, has had several strokes.
Neither of my parents every abused each other or me. They broke the cycle with themselves. But it's not okay to live with abuse. My grandparents shouldn't have had to deal with that behaviour, and neither should my mother and father, or my aunts or uncles. It is a serious problem and it needs to be stopped. It was interesting looking at it from a sociological perspective, though. What makes people become abusers, etc.
This issue is very personal to me for a variety of reasons which I don't want to bring up, which made the banquet a little more than uncomfortable. I hope I didn't give the speaker the wrong impression, I really wasn't bored at all and I was paying attention but there is a fine line between looking thoroughly bored and trying to not be ill. It's difficult to describe what was discussed at the banquet to people who were not there, so just take my word for it, it was intense.
I'm actually taking a class with the woman who spoke tonight next semester, called Changing Families. It sounds like a fantastic course. It doesn't go towards either of my majors so I'm hoping it's at least insightful.
The ally panel is tomorrow (!!) and I'm soo nervous and anxious and excited. I'm Rachel to my friends, but I don't know everyone who is going to be at the panel. I want to be Rachel to them, I don't want to be anything that they perceive about me from what is said at the panel. I'm just Rachel. The panel is necessary, a lot of people don't have anyone to put a face to when it comes to GLBTQ issues. We share the same dorms, the same halls, the same classrooms, the table in the cafeteria. I just want everyone to see that our differences make us the same. We're not all the same person, even straight people aren't the same. But we all love, and that's what brings us together.
They'll name a city after us
And later say it's all our fault
Then they'll give us a talking to
Then they'll give us a talking to
Because they've got years of experience
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
We're Here Too
I made posters tonight for the rally on Saturday. I am SO excited! One is neon green, one side says "Closets are for Clothes" and the other side says "Out and very Proud." The other is bright pink and says Equal Rights. I need to spruce them up a bit but figuring out what I wanted them to say was the hardest part.
I've heard a lot of people, including non-straight people, saying things like "I don't understand what these protests are going to do, it's a matter of that state, it's a matter of their supreme court, etc. etc." The fact of the matter is the supreme court of California ruled that same-sex marriage should be legal, that it is unconstitutional to deny homosexuals the right to marry. I was always led to believe that the supreme court is the highest power in the land. In any event, we're protesting to show this country that we're not small in numbers, we're not going to tolerate being treated this way. We're mad as hell and we're not going to stand it anymore. Personally, I'm a ninteen year old out lesbian. I've known I was gay for most of my life, I've been certain of it since I was 14/15, I've been coming out since senior year in high school. I only recently came out to my mother, despite how terrified I was. We shouldn't have to be afraid to be ourselves. I'm going to go out on a limb and speak for all the little ones trying desperately to find their place in the world, the kids who know there is something different about them but they just can't put their finger on it, the kids who want so badly to belong, but they simply can't, the kids who would rather suffocate in a place of death than have to force the world to face the truth. I made it out of that place, but there are MANY who don't. This country is letting its own children suffer, knowingly. I'm not going to stand by and let this happen anymore, something must be done.
Give us our constitutional rights, our birth rights. Tell me I matter as much as the straight person in the voting booth next to me. You take my taxes and my vote, but you can't treat me as a human being. I'm so ready for this rally. People are saying "but this is massachusetts, gay marriage has been legal for years." Right, it has, but there are bigots everywhere. We're rallying to show the rest of the country that we're here too, we see what's going on in California, and we're not going to let them stand alone. Take some comfort, maybe, in those who stand up all over the country and say we aren't taking no for an answer anymore. We're here too California.
I think the Colbert Report summed it up best with "We're going to out live, out last and out survive the bigots."
I've heard a lot of people, including non-straight people, saying things like "I don't understand what these protests are going to do, it's a matter of that state, it's a matter of their supreme court, etc. etc." The fact of the matter is the supreme court of California ruled that same-sex marriage should be legal, that it is unconstitutional to deny homosexuals the right to marry. I was always led to believe that the supreme court is the highest power in the land. In any event, we're protesting to show this country that we're not small in numbers, we're not going to tolerate being treated this way. We're mad as hell and we're not going to stand it anymore. Personally, I'm a ninteen year old out lesbian. I've known I was gay for most of my life, I've been certain of it since I was 14/15, I've been coming out since senior year in high school. I only recently came out to my mother, despite how terrified I was. We shouldn't have to be afraid to be ourselves. I'm going to go out on a limb and speak for all the little ones trying desperately to find their place in the world, the kids who know there is something different about them but they just can't put their finger on it, the kids who want so badly to belong, but they simply can't, the kids who would rather suffocate in a place of death than have to force the world to face the truth. I made it out of that place, but there are MANY who don't. This country is letting its own children suffer, knowingly. I'm not going to stand by and let this happen anymore, something must be done.
Give us our constitutional rights, our birth rights. Tell me I matter as much as the straight person in the voting booth next to me. You take my taxes and my vote, but you can't treat me as a human being. I'm so ready for this rally. People are saying "but this is massachusetts, gay marriage has been legal for years." Right, it has, but there are bigots everywhere. We're rallying to show the rest of the country that we're here too, we see what's going on in California, and we're not going to let them stand alone. Take some comfort, maybe, in those who stand up all over the country and say we aren't taking no for an answer anymore. We're here too California.
I think the Colbert Report summed it up best with "We're going to out live, out last and out survive the bigots."
Looking Out for a Sunny Day
I'm pretty excited about the Ally Panel coming up this Thursday. I opted not to do it last year because my RD walked up to me one day and said "So I hear you're a lesbian, would you be on our ally panel?" and really caught me off guard.
So this year, with the newly formed GSA, which I slave over daily for hours generally, the executive board of the GSA is more or less running the show. This is our first big campus event and I'm really excited. I hope it goes off without a hitch. I'm not anticipating anything happening between now and Thursday that would impede the panel, and the rules are really clear that if you're going to be an ass you should go elsewhere. But people can be asses, and someone will in all likelihood say something that shouldn't be said (at a catholic school, in a college setting, in front of peers, in public, etc. etc.).
I'm so busy lately that it's not even funny. All the free time I have consists of the time in between classes. Yesterday I got out of class at 3:15, had a meeting at 3:30, had to work at a blood drive (which I still don't know how I got roped in to, since I have been known to faint at the sight of blood, but fortunately I was only working the "canteen" and making sure the donors didn't pass out) until 6:30, had dinner and went to the gym for an hour, then had a GSA meeting. Well I mean, I did go to IHop at midnight, but who is trolling around Boston suburbs at midnight and later?
There are a few girls who I really want to go out with sometime but how on earth am I supposed to be like "hey, want to get a coffee sometime?" when I don't have a minute free? I feel like I'd have to give her my entire schedule and say "pick a time slot," which would be so douchey. I feel bad because my lack of flexibility is making it slightly impossible to have a life, and as much as I hate to say it, school/clubs/work are my life right now. But I feel like it shouldn't be that way, because I'm nineteen. I REALLY love my life and I'm having a great time, but I'd like to have enough time to take a chick out if I wanted to, or even go see a movie with my friends, or, you know, do all of my work and get it done instead of staying up until 3 am every night working my ass off. If this is how it is when I'm nineteen, how is it going to be when I'm twenty-two? Twenty-eight? Thirty-five? Fifty? What is my life going to be like? Am I just setting myself up? I have really high hopes for myself and what I can accomplish, but is it at the expense of all the other things I want and expect out of life?
It's hard to think about the future when you're so scared that it's going to be exactly the same as the present. But everything will be okay. Everything is always okay.
So this year, with the newly formed GSA, which I slave over daily for hours generally, the executive board of the GSA is more or less running the show. This is our first big campus event and I'm really excited. I hope it goes off without a hitch. I'm not anticipating anything happening between now and Thursday that would impede the panel, and the rules are really clear that if you're going to be an ass you should go elsewhere. But people can be asses, and someone will in all likelihood say something that shouldn't be said (at a catholic school, in a college setting, in front of peers, in public, etc. etc.).
I'm so busy lately that it's not even funny. All the free time I have consists of the time in between classes. Yesterday I got out of class at 3:15, had a meeting at 3:30, had to work at a blood drive (which I still don't know how I got roped in to, since I have been known to faint at the sight of blood, but fortunately I was only working the "canteen" and making sure the donors didn't pass out) until 6:30, had dinner and went to the gym for an hour, then had a GSA meeting. Well I mean, I did go to IHop at midnight, but who is trolling around Boston suburbs at midnight and later?
There are a few girls who I really want to go out with sometime but how on earth am I supposed to be like "hey, want to get a coffee sometime?" when I don't have a minute free? I feel like I'd have to give her my entire schedule and say "pick a time slot," which would be so douchey. I feel bad because my lack of flexibility is making it slightly impossible to have a life, and as much as I hate to say it, school/clubs/work are my life right now. But I feel like it shouldn't be that way, because I'm nineteen. I REALLY love my life and I'm having a great time, but I'd like to have enough time to take a chick out if I wanted to, or even go see a movie with my friends, or, you know, do all of my work and get it done instead of staying up until 3 am every night working my ass off. If this is how it is when I'm nineteen, how is it going to be when I'm twenty-two? Twenty-eight? Thirty-five? Fifty? What is my life going to be like? Am I just setting myself up? I have really high hopes for myself and what I can accomplish, but is it at the expense of all the other things I want and expect out of life?
It's hard to think about the future when you're so scared that it's going to be exactly the same as the present. But everything will be okay. Everything is always okay.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Protest on Prop 8 in Boston
If you're in Beantown you should attend the protest on prop 8 this Saturday at 1:30 outside of Boston City Hall.
Here's the facebook link:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?sid=c18f58112e2fc89a20dac389b09ac0ee&refurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fs.php%3Fq%3Dproposition%2B8%26n%3D-1%26k%3D400000010%26sf%3Dr%26init%3Dq%26sid%3Dc18f58112e2fc89a20dac389b09ac0ee&eid=37701726407
I'll be there (hopefully, unless it gets completely out of hand) with a bunch of my friends.
We can be with you physically, California, but we're with you in spirit!! Keep fighting the good fight.
Here's the facebook link:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?sid=c18f58112e2fc89a20dac389b09ac0ee&refurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fs.php%3Fq%3Dproposition%2B8%26n%3D-1%26k%3D400000010%26sf%3Dr%26init%3Dq%26sid%3Dc18f58112e2fc89a20dac389b09ac0ee&eid=37701726407
I'll be there (hopefully, unless it gets completely out of hand) with a bunch of my friends.
We can be with you physically, California, but we're with you in spirit!! Keep fighting the good fight.
Friday, November 7, 2008
I Wonder
I wonder if God sees what His book has caused down here.
I wore my "marriage is so gay" t-shirt today, I think it's appropriate right about now. One of my professors (who has seen me wear it before) asked me if they passed Prop 8, and I told her yes, and I also told her about Florida and Alabama, to which she replied "Things like this make me glad to be from the Northeast."
And I guess that's what it comes down to. The mentalities in the different regions of our country are so incredibly different. I've never lived anywhere besides Connecticut or Massachusetts, I've never been taught anything other than "think for yourself."
There has to be a way to convince the residents of the rest of this country to think for themselves, to not simply rely on what they are told by biased sources.
Besides, why should the church (the meaning any) care who anyone marries? We're not living in biblical times anymore, where a man and a woman NEEDED to "marry" (poligamy was allowed, rape and incest were perfectly fine, sounds a lot like mormonism hmmm...) in order to procreate, lest the dwindling number of monotheists would have been killed off and their message would have been lost. Today, we don't need to procreate in order to spread a message, we have access to limitless sources of informations, both biased and unbiased, with which to form our own opinions.
So it all boils down to hate. Maybe their mentality is "if we constantly remind them of their 'sin' they will stop being 'sinners'."
Probably more accurately "Maybe if we constantly remind them of their 'sin' no one will see how sinful we are."
I wore my "marriage is so gay" t-shirt today, I think it's appropriate right about now. One of my professors (who has seen me wear it before) asked me if they passed Prop 8, and I told her yes, and I also told her about Florida and Alabama, to which she replied "Things like this make me glad to be from the Northeast."
And I guess that's what it comes down to. The mentalities in the different regions of our country are so incredibly different. I've never lived anywhere besides Connecticut or Massachusetts, I've never been taught anything other than "think for yourself."
There has to be a way to convince the residents of the rest of this country to think for themselves, to not simply rely on what they are told by biased sources.
Besides, why should the church (the meaning any) care who anyone marries? We're not living in biblical times anymore, where a man and a woman NEEDED to "marry" (poligamy was allowed, rape and incest were perfectly fine, sounds a lot like mormonism hmmm...) in order to procreate, lest the dwindling number of monotheists would have been killed off and their message would have been lost. Today, we don't need to procreate in order to spread a message, we have access to limitless sources of informations, both biased and unbiased, with which to form our own opinions.
So it all boils down to hate. Maybe their mentality is "if we constantly remind them of their 'sin' they will stop being 'sinners'."
Probably more accurately "Maybe if we constantly remind them of their 'sin' no one will see how sinful we are."
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Going Home
There is something so difficult to pinpoint about going home when you're living away in college. Your home, the place where you grew up, kind of fades into the background while your new home, your dorm or your apartment, transforms into your new home. The dorm is an extension of your old home, to an extent. It just lacks one thing: good food.
God, I would do terrible things for a good meal right about now. I didn't eat anything until 3:30 yesterday afternoon, so for the entire day I was wandering from class to class in a ravenous state. It's no one's fault but my own, and if I weren't so busy I would have time to eat, and sleep, but I have absolutely no time to myself these days. Besides right now, of course, when I'm doing nothing. These precious moments so few and far between.
I look forward to going home, to seeing Molly and Rob and Jaime. There is no one here who could ever possibly replace them in any capacity. I miss them terribly.
In weird news in the life of Rachel:
I had to break up a fight in the computer lab last night, somewhere between midnight and 2 am. There I was, writing my literature review, when all of a sudden I hear shouting coming from the lab next door. So I stand up and look at the other people in the lab with me. They looked concerned, so I ran over to the other room and saw two chicks and this kid named Robert (who has asbergers) getting up in each other's faces and making a lot of noise. So I get between them and tell Robert to sit down for a second and tell the girls who were getting in his face to back off. Eventually they calmed down so I went back to the lab where I was working, only to have to literally run back over to the room again five minutes later because they were yelling even louder and saying things like "I'm gonna kill you," things like that that really should not be said on a college campus. So one of the girls who was in the lab with me took Robert out into the hall and talked with him and calmed him down and told him to try and ignore the girls while I told the girls to back the hell off Robert because as much as Robert can handle himself (he is in college and he is living here on his own) he does not have the same social norms as the rest of us, and that if they had a problem with him to go to campus police. (What happened was Robert was singing or something and he walked up to one of the girls and she ripped something out of his hand and when she did, he smacked her in the face. I won't even lie and say she didn't deserve it, but honestly hitting people is not acceptable). So they settled down, but eventually the girls went to campus police and campo came back and hauled Robert away.
It was very intense, but I'm glad we were there to calm the situation down before someone seriously hurt someone else.
I'm looking forward to going home for a bit, sleeping in my own bed, reconnecting with my best friends, seeing Puppy and Kitty and forgetting about the escapade that was the recent election (besides Obama winning cause I definitely support Barack).
God, I would do terrible things for a good meal right about now. I didn't eat anything until 3:30 yesterday afternoon, so for the entire day I was wandering from class to class in a ravenous state. It's no one's fault but my own, and if I weren't so busy I would have time to eat, and sleep, but I have absolutely no time to myself these days. Besides right now, of course, when I'm doing nothing. These precious moments so few and far between.
I look forward to going home, to seeing Molly and Rob and Jaime. There is no one here who could ever possibly replace them in any capacity. I miss them terribly.
In weird news in the life of Rachel:
I had to break up a fight in the computer lab last night, somewhere between midnight and 2 am. There I was, writing my literature review, when all of a sudden I hear shouting coming from the lab next door. So I stand up and look at the other people in the lab with me. They looked concerned, so I ran over to the other room and saw two chicks and this kid named Robert (who has asbergers) getting up in each other's faces and making a lot of noise. So I get between them and tell Robert to sit down for a second and tell the girls who were getting in his face to back off. Eventually they calmed down so I went back to the lab where I was working, only to have to literally run back over to the room again five minutes later because they were yelling even louder and saying things like "I'm gonna kill you," things like that that really should not be said on a college campus. So one of the girls who was in the lab with me took Robert out into the hall and talked with him and calmed him down and told him to try and ignore the girls while I told the girls to back the hell off Robert because as much as Robert can handle himself (he is in college and he is living here on his own) he does not have the same social norms as the rest of us, and that if they had a problem with him to go to campus police. (What happened was Robert was singing or something and he walked up to one of the girls and she ripped something out of his hand and when she did, he smacked her in the face. I won't even lie and say she didn't deserve it, but honestly hitting people is not acceptable). So they settled down, but eventually the girls went to campus police and campo came back and hauled Robert away.
It was very intense, but I'm glad we were there to calm the situation down before someone seriously hurt someone else.
I'm looking forward to going home for a bit, sleeping in my own bed, reconnecting with my best friends, seeing Puppy and Kitty and forgetting about the escapade that was the recent election (besides Obama winning cause I definitely support Barack).
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
I Don't Matter
I had a presentation on Communism in the U.S. as it relates to African Americans (or as African Americans related to Communism in the early-mid 20th century) in my African American Literature class today. I thought it was fitting, sort of, to have a political discussion th day after we elected our very first African American president of the United States. There were no sad faces today, everyone walked across campus as though a great weight had been lifted off of our collective shoulders. Last night we shouted and cried and danced and prayed with a nation of people who have for so long been divided by the most insignificant of qualities as race, gender, religion, orientation. We held our breath as we listened to the next president of our country inspire hope. I am already incredibly proud of my fellow Americans for seeing past the black and white, the young and old, the old blood and the new. America is certainly on a path toward wholeness.
And yet, there was a sense of despair upon leaving my class today. I have fifteen minutes between African American Lit and Child Development, the only fifteen minutes I really have to myself on Mondays and Wednesdays. The leaves are falling now, not so much falling as sailing, spiriling, whirling. With a sigh they let go of the trees that gave them life and they float to the ground, without a particular landing in mind. They simply float, and land wherever they land. I stood on the path between the main building and the science building today, and kept repeating in my head "I don't count, I'm not here, I don't matter." I feel air and sunshine. I watch the sunlight peek through the dangling leaves and land on my cheek in a splash of colour. I taste the fall afternoons, the cool air whistling around me, sending orange and red and yellow leaves into my path. I walk, and I run, and I sing, and I dance, and I laugh, and I love, and I know, and I forget, and I don't understand, and I am sometimes sorry, and I am almost never right, and I love life, and I hold hands, and I take my time, and I smile, and I breathe.
But I don't count, and I am not here. There is nothing so damaging as feeling as though, because of something over which you have no control, you are being punished. You are poor, and therefore you must be punished. You are black, and therefore you must be punished. You are a woman, and therefore you must be punished. You are gay, and therefore you must be punished. Separate but equal. They let me vote, but my vote doesn't count. They collect my taxes, but I am not a citizen. I can't go anywhere where I dream of going without fear that that anywhere will hate me for me. I can't love freely. I can't live freely.
Sometimes when leaves fall, they don't know where to land. I feel like a leaf, suspended in mid air.
I'm so sorry for everyone in California. I'm so sorry for the families who are affected by this blind hate. I'm so sorry for the children who will grow up thinking, or knowing, rather, that there country does not love them as it should.
I don't matter.
And yet, there was a sense of despair upon leaving my class today. I have fifteen minutes between African American Lit and Child Development, the only fifteen minutes I really have to myself on Mondays and Wednesdays. The leaves are falling now, not so much falling as sailing, spiriling, whirling. With a sigh they let go of the trees that gave them life and they float to the ground, without a particular landing in mind. They simply float, and land wherever they land. I stood on the path between the main building and the science building today, and kept repeating in my head "I don't count, I'm not here, I don't matter." I feel air and sunshine. I watch the sunlight peek through the dangling leaves and land on my cheek in a splash of colour. I taste the fall afternoons, the cool air whistling around me, sending orange and red and yellow leaves into my path. I walk, and I run, and I sing, and I dance, and I laugh, and I love, and I know, and I forget, and I don't understand, and I am sometimes sorry, and I am almost never right, and I love life, and I hold hands, and I take my time, and I smile, and I breathe.
But I don't count, and I am not here. There is nothing so damaging as feeling as though, because of something over which you have no control, you are being punished. You are poor, and therefore you must be punished. You are black, and therefore you must be punished. You are a woman, and therefore you must be punished. You are gay, and therefore you must be punished. Separate but equal. They let me vote, but my vote doesn't count. They collect my taxes, but I am not a citizen. I can't go anywhere where I dream of going without fear that that anywhere will hate me for me. I can't love freely. I can't live freely.
Sometimes when leaves fall, they don't know where to land. I feel like a leaf, suspended in mid air.
I'm so sorry for everyone in California. I'm so sorry for the families who are affected by this blind hate. I'm so sorry for the children who will grow up thinking, or knowing, rather, that there country does not love them as it should.
I don't matter.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Maverick
Who's the Maverick now????
Congratulations Barack Obama, make this country proud! Please help set us on the path toward whole-ness.
I wish my daddy was alive to see this day. I wish I was back in the old neighbourhood holding Miss Bubba's hand. Barack, you won this for all the kids who dreamed of being president when they were told they would never make it. You won it for your daughters, who have the potential to some day become world leaders. You won it for my daddy, who worked tirelessly for the rights of all people. You won it for Miss Bubba in the old neighbourhood who could never dream outside of Hartford, outside of the bubble we lived in. You won it for Dr. King and HIS dream that has become OUR collective dream. You won it for me, the kid whose parents grew up on a farm in upstate New York and a little apartment in Bayonne New Jersey, the children of immigrants and dreamers, who thought a little house near the projects in Hartford was like a dream. You won it for me and all the people like me, the dreamers and the thinkers and the doers. You won it for me and all the people who are making their lives better, who are taking what our families had to offer us and shaping that into our own fantastic American Dreams. My daddy was there to hear Dr. King speak. He was there to walk with him, to hold his brother Americans and his sister Americans by the hands and sing and wonder and pray. And now you, Mr. Obama, have been given this wonderful opportunity, this unfathomable challenge, of repairing our nation while maintaining your sense of self.
You won the election for all of us, now the task is to lead ALL of us, not just some, into the future. Take me, and my red white and blue, orange yellow and green, black grey and tan, polkadotted and striped brothers and sisters, and lead ALL of us into a brighter tomorrow.
God bless this wonderful country where anything is possible.
And thank God for not passing Question 1 in CT. Be with all those who are still fighting their own battles. Teach this country how to love ALL and respect ALL individuals.
Congratulations Barack Obama, make this country proud! Please help set us on the path toward whole-ness.
I wish my daddy was alive to see this day. I wish I was back in the old neighbourhood holding Miss Bubba's hand. Barack, you won this for all the kids who dreamed of being president when they were told they would never make it. You won it for your daughters, who have the potential to some day become world leaders. You won it for my daddy, who worked tirelessly for the rights of all people. You won it for Miss Bubba in the old neighbourhood who could never dream outside of Hartford, outside of the bubble we lived in. You won it for Dr. King and HIS dream that has become OUR collective dream. You won it for me, the kid whose parents grew up on a farm in upstate New York and a little apartment in Bayonne New Jersey, the children of immigrants and dreamers, who thought a little house near the projects in Hartford was like a dream. You won it for me and all the people like me, the dreamers and the thinkers and the doers. You won it for me and all the people who are making their lives better, who are taking what our families had to offer us and shaping that into our own fantastic American Dreams. My daddy was there to hear Dr. King speak. He was there to walk with him, to hold his brother Americans and his sister Americans by the hands and sing and wonder and pray. And now you, Mr. Obama, have been given this wonderful opportunity, this unfathomable challenge, of repairing our nation while maintaining your sense of self.
You won the election for all of us, now the task is to lead ALL of us, not just some, into the future. Take me, and my red white and blue, orange yellow and green, black grey and tan, polkadotted and striped brothers and sisters, and lead ALL of us into a brighter tomorrow.
God bless this wonderful country where anything is possible.
And thank God for not passing Question 1 in CT. Be with all those who are still fighting their own battles. Teach this country how to love ALL and respect ALL individuals.
Vote
No on Question 1 in CT. Don't amend our constitution just to take my rights away.
No on Question 1 in MA. Do not repeal the state income tax and let the haves continue to get more and the have nots continue to flounder.
NO on Prop 8 in CA. Love is Love!! Separation of church and state!
VOTE
No on Question 1 in MA. Do not repeal the state income tax and let the haves continue to get more and the have nots continue to flounder.
NO on Prop 8 in CA. Love is Love!! Separation of church and state!
VOTE
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Last Fight Let Us Face
I don't even want to be a part of this democracy anymore. I'm sick and tired of people who think they are right. I'm certainly not right, no one is right.
But I do know this. With the money these two men spent on their campaigns they could certainly have fed many starving children IN OUR OWN COUNTRY.
It's infuriates me to no end. Starving babies in our own country. God forgive these blind bastards. Don't tell me it's their parents fault for having them, it's their parents fault for being uneducated, for being poor, for depending on the government. The government is THERE to be DEPENDED UPON in times of need. If the government did a little more maybe these starving children wouldn't be starving, and their parents could find themselves "pulled up by their bootstraps."
Socialism. right. now.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
No more deluded by reaction
On tyrants only we'll make war
The soldiers too will take strike action
They'll break ranks and fight no more
And if those cannibals keep trying
To sacrifice us to their pride
They soon shall hear the bullets flying
We'll shoot the generals on our own side.
But I do know this. With the money these two men spent on their campaigns they could certainly have fed many starving children IN OUR OWN COUNTRY.
It's infuriates me to no end. Starving babies in our own country. God forgive these blind bastards. Don't tell me it's their parents fault for having them, it's their parents fault for being uneducated, for being poor, for depending on the government. The government is THERE to be DEPENDED UPON in times of need. If the government did a little more maybe these starving children wouldn't be starving, and their parents could find themselves "pulled up by their bootstraps."
Socialism. right. now.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
So comrades, come rally
And the last fight let us face
The Internationale unites the human race.
No more deluded by reaction
On tyrants only we'll make war
The soldiers too will take strike action
They'll break ranks and fight no more
And if those cannibals keep trying
To sacrifice us to their pride
They soon shall hear the bullets flying
We'll shoot the generals on our own side.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
The End of an Error
I voted yesterday by absentee ballot. This is the first presidential election that I've been eligible to vote in. I think this means that I am officially a participant in democratic process? Total sense of accomplishment.
We've almost come to the end of the last eight years of backwards governing, of war and tears. There is a sense of joy at the end, a sense of relief. We as a nation and as a world have definitely earned the opportunity to celebrate the end of an error. No matter how the election ends, I personally feel that nothing (including the election of John McCain, possibly excluding the election of VP Sarah Palin the complete and total nut-job) can come close to the tragedy that was the last eight years.
To have come through it: to have joyfully
survived even the happiness - quietly, completely.
First the testings were mute, then verbal.
Who could look back unamazed?
No one has been able, since life lasts
because no one could. - But the infiniteness
of the attemps! The new greenness of birch trees
is not so new as that which behalls us.
A wood dove coos. And again what you suffered
seems, ah, as if yet unlived-through.
The bird keeps calling. You are in the middle
of the call. Awake and weakened
- Rilke 1921
We've almost come to the end of the last eight years of backwards governing, of war and tears. There is a sense of joy at the end, a sense of relief. We as a nation and as a world have definitely earned the opportunity to celebrate the end of an error. No matter how the election ends, I personally feel that nothing (including the election of John McCain, possibly excluding the election of VP Sarah Palin the complete and total nut-job) can come close to the tragedy that was the last eight years.
To have come through it: to have joyfully
survived even the happiness - quietly, completely.
First the testings were mute, then verbal.
Who could look back unamazed?
No one has been able, since life lasts
because no one could. - But the infiniteness
of the attemps! The new greenness of birch trees
is not so new as that which behalls us.
A wood dove coos. And again what you suffered
seems, ah, as if yet unlived-through.
The bird keeps calling. You are in the middle
of the call. Awake and weakened
- Rilke 1921
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Happy Halloween
I was pretty positive that Halloween was going to be out of control this year, being that it was on a Friday night and all. I guess I just had no idea exactly HOW out of control it would be.
I had no desire to do anything this Halloween, because in my heart I am an elderly woman who wants nothing more than to be left alone to pour over my studies for hours.
But I was invited to a party, along with all of my friends. I was also invited to go trick or treating, but I decided against it at the last minute. Eventually it was time to get dressed up and go to the party. I borrowed a cheerleader costume my friend made ("but i'm a cheerleader"... get it) and we all went off in several carloads of people. I got a freshman to be Dd, which turned out to be one of the best decisions I've made as of late.
I won't go into the nitty gritties of the night, just some of the significant goings-on.
My first thought upon waking up this morning with the worst hangover ever: I have never kissed so many straight girls before in my life than I did last night. At one point I was dancing and a girl walked up to me, kissed me on the mouth and said "I'm gay!" It was a little surprising.
At one point last night I was hanging out in the smoking section on the front porch, when a cop car drove by. I immediately went inside and told everyone to shut up. Then about 30 people ran into the house and yelled "cops!" and the entire party ran out the back door, started jumping fences in all different directions, hiding behind sheds, etc. The cops did stop at the house, and they did ask us to keep it down and to stay inside, but that was that. Being smushed between a bunch of people trying to hide in the shadows behind a tool shed is not my idea of fun.
When we were driving back to school both of the entrances were blocked by campus police. We had to show ID in order to get back into school, luckily at the time we all had our IDs and were coherent enough to get them. It was just a little... nerve racking to have to deal with campus police right then and there.
I had a great and relatively problem free Halloween. Hope everyone else had a very safe and happy Halloween also!!
I had no desire to do anything this Halloween, because in my heart I am an elderly woman who wants nothing more than to be left alone to pour over my studies for hours.
But I was invited to a party, along with all of my friends. I was also invited to go trick or treating, but I decided against it at the last minute. Eventually it was time to get dressed up and go to the party. I borrowed a cheerleader costume my friend made ("but i'm a cheerleader"... get it) and we all went off in several carloads of people. I got a freshman to be Dd, which turned out to be one of the best decisions I've made as of late.
I won't go into the nitty gritties of the night, just some of the significant goings-on.
My first thought upon waking up this morning with the worst hangover ever: I have never kissed so many straight girls before in my life than I did last night. At one point I was dancing and a girl walked up to me, kissed me on the mouth and said "I'm gay!" It was a little surprising.
At one point last night I was hanging out in the smoking section on the front porch, when a cop car drove by. I immediately went inside and told everyone to shut up. Then about 30 people ran into the house and yelled "cops!" and the entire party ran out the back door, started jumping fences in all different directions, hiding behind sheds, etc. The cops did stop at the house, and they did ask us to keep it down and to stay inside, but that was that. Being smushed between a bunch of people trying to hide in the shadows behind a tool shed is not my idea of fun.
When we were driving back to school both of the entrances were blocked by campus police. We had to show ID in order to get back into school, luckily at the time we all had our IDs and were coherent enough to get them. It was just a little... nerve racking to have to deal with campus police right then and there.
I had a great and relatively problem free Halloween. Hope everyone else had a very safe and happy Halloween also!!
Friday, October 31, 2008
I'll Take People Who Won't be President for 800, Alex
So I played lacrosse today, and I needed some caffine for my weary bones afterwards. Two of the other girls and I were in a car, driving to dunks, when on the side of a busy section of road we saw a man waving a John McCain sign.
Oh hell N-O. You are not brandishing a John McCain sign near where I live and learn.
So naturally, I rolled down the window and screamed "JOHN MCCAIN SUUUCKSSS!" Much to my disappointment, my sentiments were not well receieved in the car. I was among McCainites. Meh, they're still cool chicks, they're just terribly misguided.
And I got my absentee ballot today. And I'm voting Obama. And I'm voting No on Prop 1. Suck on that John McCain and Caribou Barbie.
The moral of the story: don't wander up and down a busy street brandishing a John McCain sign, because I will be there, and it will be obscene.
Oh hell N-O. You are not brandishing a John McCain sign near where I live and learn.
So naturally, I rolled down the window and screamed "JOHN MCCAIN SUUUCKSSS!" Much to my disappointment, my sentiments were not well receieved in the car. I was among McCainites. Meh, they're still cool chicks, they're just terribly misguided.
And I got my absentee ballot today. And I'm voting Obama. And I'm voting No on Prop 1. Suck on that John McCain and Caribou Barbie.
The moral of the story: don't wander up and down a busy street brandishing a John McCain sign, because I will be there, and it will be obscene.
Laundry Day
You know it's laundry day when you're lugging an overflowing hamper down two flights of stairs and the maintenance guy smiles at you because you're dropping clothes everywhere, and it must be fun to watch you struggle.
Or is he smiling because you're wearing a tie-dye t-shirt and plaid shorts when it is almost November, and it is painfully obvious that you have run out of clothes.
I'm glad I decided to do laundry today, these shorts just are not keeping the impending winter at bay anymore.
Or is he smiling because you're wearing a tie-dye t-shirt and plaid shorts when it is almost November, and it is painfully obvious that you have run out of clothes.
I'm glad I decided to do laundry today, these shorts just are not keeping the impending winter at bay anymore.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
The Bitch Is Back
I don't appreciate being lied to.
Particularly by one of my best friends.
Even more particularly by the person I live with, with whom I share a tiny little room on a tiny little campus.
I can handle honesty. If you want me to get rid of my chair, I probably won't, but your input is good. I care how you feel and I will try to adjust for you, as you and I share this space. However, when you lie to me and tell me you were here when they were conducting room checks and they said the chair is a "fire hazard" (which it is not, so get off your high horse), and the only reason you lied and said you were here was because you dislike my chair and you want to get rid of it, you better believe I am taking that chair out on every single occasion that arises from now on. I can't even wait to plunk myself in my comfy chair and just sit there and bask in the awesome of it's florescent greenness, how plush it is, how it envelopes everyone who sits there.
And my rug stays on the floor, the space in front of my closet is MY space. It gets dirty because PEOPLE WALK ON RUGS. If you don't like how dirty it is, you clean it. Or better yet SUGGEST THAT I CLEAN IT. I'm truly not a mind reader, I don't know if I give off that vibe or something, but I'm not. Women are so f*cked in the head sometimes.
If you want to adjust the space allocations in the room, that's awesome, let's do that, I don't really care. BUT THERE NEEDS TO BE COMMUNICATION.
Is it so hard to tell someone how you are feeling? I don't like catching people in their lies, I would rather believe everyone is generally good natured and raised well enough to appreciate the necessity in telling the truth.
I'm not leaving this room, and I'm sure as hell not going to let myself be walked all over. No sir. Please do not lie to me out of one side of your face, and out of the other tell me we are friends. I'm not friends with liars.
So why don't you just fuh-loat owhn. God I can't even stand it.
Particularly by one of my best friends.
Even more particularly by the person I live with, with whom I share a tiny little room on a tiny little campus.
I can handle honesty. If you want me to get rid of my chair, I probably won't, but your input is good. I care how you feel and I will try to adjust for you, as you and I share this space. However, when you lie to me and tell me you were here when they were conducting room checks and they said the chair is a "fire hazard" (which it is not, so get off your high horse), and the only reason you lied and said you were here was because you dislike my chair and you want to get rid of it, you better believe I am taking that chair out on every single occasion that arises from now on. I can't even wait to plunk myself in my comfy chair and just sit there and bask in the awesome of it's florescent greenness, how plush it is, how it envelopes everyone who sits there.
And my rug stays on the floor, the space in front of my closet is MY space. It gets dirty because PEOPLE WALK ON RUGS. If you don't like how dirty it is, you clean it. Or better yet SUGGEST THAT I CLEAN IT. I'm truly not a mind reader, I don't know if I give off that vibe or something, but I'm not. Women are so f*cked in the head sometimes.
If you want to adjust the space allocations in the room, that's awesome, let's do that, I don't really care. BUT THERE NEEDS TO BE COMMUNICATION.
Is it so hard to tell someone how you are feeling? I don't like catching people in their lies, I would rather believe everyone is generally good natured and raised well enough to appreciate the necessity in telling the truth.
I'm not leaving this room, and I'm sure as hell not going to let myself be walked all over. No sir. Please do not lie to me out of one side of your face, and out of the other tell me we are friends. I'm not friends with liars.
So why don't you just fuh-loat owhn. God I can't even stand it.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Disappointment
Bummed doesn't even begin to describe how I feel today.
I took my stats exam (after having studying until 1 am), went to lunch only to find out that I was not one of the 10 selected to go on the Rome trip over Spring break, drove to Wellesley to see an exhibit on African American Womanhood (which was actually really really cool and if you're in the greater Boston area I definitely suggest checking it out), drove back and was ten minutes late for my child development class where there was a quiz which I had no chance to study for, called out sick to work and now I'm sitting in the room being sad.
I'm pretty aware of the unfairness of things. I'm also very aware of and very grateful for the privileges I have had and continue to have. But I mean, I'm overqualified for the chance to go on this trip and to be in this class, and yet I wasn't one of the chosen 10. This trip would mean the world to me, it's such a fantastic opportunity. I'm very happy for the people who were chosen to go, and I'm trying very hard to not be jealous. But I'm also extremely disappointed, and I feel like somehow it's my fault. I'm not good enough. I just want to be enough.
I'm just going to lay down and pretend like my life isn't utterly disappointing right now.
who am i, i bet you can't even tell me that much
I took my stats exam (after having studying until 1 am), went to lunch only to find out that I was not one of the 10 selected to go on the Rome trip over Spring break, drove to Wellesley to see an exhibit on African American Womanhood (which was actually really really cool and if you're in the greater Boston area I definitely suggest checking it out), drove back and was ten minutes late for my child development class where there was a quiz which I had no chance to study for, called out sick to work and now I'm sitting in the room being sad.
I'm pretty aware of the unfairness of things. I'm also very aware of and very grateful for the privileges I have had and continue to have. But I mean, I'm overqualified for the chance to go on this trip and to be in this class, and yet I wasn't one of the chosen 10. This trip would mean the world to me, it's such a fantastic opportunity. I'm very happy for the people who were chosen to go, and I'm trying very hard to not be jealous. But I'm also extremely disappointed, and I feel like somehow it's my fault. I'm not good enough. I just want to be enough.
I'm just going to lay down and pretend like my life isn't utterly disappointing right now.
who am i, i bet you can't even tell me that much
Monday, October 27, 2008
The Great Pumpkin
I feel like the last time I carved a pumpkin was probably when I lived in Hartford, just nearing on a million years ago now. I have lots of great Hartford stories, but no great pumpkin stories.
That was a great pumpkin reference for Peanuts fans. I never understood why Marcy always called Peppermint Patty "Sir." It sends me into a fit of giggles every time I think about it.
Anywho, so I carved a pumpkin tonight. The reason I haven't carved a pumpkin in so long probably has something to do with the fact that you end up with pumpkin seeds and pumpkin mush all up to your armpits. It's wicked gross, I basically ran back and forth between the bathroom and the pumpkin carving area every single time I picked a handful of mush out of the pumpkin. I can't stand that sticky gross feeling, gives me the heeby jeebies just thinking about it. I'll be smelling like pumpkins for weeks, yum. My pumpkin started out as a cat that evolved into several other things as the evening progressed and my mind wandered further and further into the gutter. I would put up a picture but I am quite ashamed as to how it turned out, and some things are better left in the gutter.
Happy pumpkin carving and apple cider drinking and corn maze wandering season!!!
Sunday, October 26, 2008
CT Vote No on 1
There is nothing else to say. If you're a registered voter in the state of Connecticut, please vote no on question 1. Mr. Blumenthal said it best with "Our State Constitution is the bedrock of our civil rights and liberties. The convention proposal is a risky and costly process. The State Constitution is not a document to be rewritten carelessly." Don't let the focus on the family groups steal your tax dollars for a ridiculous process that could potentially change more than simply who you are allowed to marry.
This election is insane. There is so much more riding on this election that simply which candidate will potentially save our floundering economy.
Barack Obama has my vote (even though I wish Hillary was on the ticket), and he best be appreciative cause this is my first presidential election and I don't vote for just any average joe. And I am most definitely saying VOTE NOT ON QUESTION 1 IN CONNECTICUT and NO ON PROP 8 IN CALIFORNIA.
And P.S. - RACHEL MADDOW IN 2012!!!
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Song Memories
Do you have a song that means something to you? You were somewhere, doing something, and that song came on the radio and you will remember forever exactly what was happening in your life at that specific point in time.
I have a few songs like that, songs that really mean something to me. My happiest song memory is Gerry Mulligan's "Disk Jockey Jump." I love jazz and when I was younger all I listened to were Jazz and Big Band. I remember hearing "Disk Jockey Jump" on my cd player, sitting out in the sun outside my middle school on a summer day, all my friends playing jump rope and laying in the sun, being kids. I said to myself at that moment that I needed to remember it, I needed to remember summer and being young, and the way the saxophone sounds in your ears and feels in your soul.
My music teacher died when I was a senior in high school. It was February, there wasn't any snow on the ground that day. It was a bright, beautiful, sunny day. I was sitting in the cafeteria with a bunch of my friends. It was second period and we all had study hall. The principal came on the intercom and told the entire school that our orchestra teacher had died after a terrible battle with lukemia. I walked up to my friends who had been in orchestra with me from the time we were fourth graders, hugged them, cried with them. I took my books and walked down the hall to the music room, and dropped them everywhere when I found my best friend. We hugged and cried in the middle of the hallway. We made it to the music room, where the rest of the orchestra was sobbing, whispering, listening to music, holding one and other.
Eventually I went home, as many of us did. My mother came home and we drove around for the rest of the day, crying, wondering, praying.
He was a great man, with two beautiful children, and brilliant music flowing out of his fingertips.
Whenever I hear "Adam's Song" by Blink 182 I am reminded of the fall day my senior year in high school when the school counselors came to us during orchestra and told us all that our beloved teacher was dying, that he would never be coming back to teach us. I remember the wailing, the tears free flowing, the embraces. I had only recently gotten my driver's license, and I found Rhonda in the parking lot and blasted my iPod all over town. When Adam's Song came on shuffle, I started sobbing. I was sitting at a red light outside of the DQ and shaws on the pike, waiting to drive and drive and drive and get away from the sadness and never look back.
I wish I could get back before these things happened. I wish I was still playing basketball in the backyard, picking blackberries in the summer, rolling down the sanddunes on the cape with my cousins, sitting in orchestra cracking jokes with my teacher.
I just wish it would all slow down. I wish the good came more often then the bad. I wish terrible things didn't happen to brilliant and beautiful people. I wish amazing things happened to everyone, and there were never any fights and never any war and cancer never existed. But that's not life, is it?
And so it goes.
I have a few songs like that, songs that really mean something to me. My happiest song memory is Gerry Mulligan's "Disk Jockey Jump." I love jazz and when I was younger all I listened to were Jazz and Big Band. I remember hearing "Disk Jockey Jump" on my cd player, sitting out in the sun outside my middle school on a summer day, all my friends playing jump rope and laying in the sun, being kids. I said to myself at that moment that I needed to remember it, I needed to remember summer and being young, and the way the saxophone sounds in your ears and feels in your soul.
My music teacher died when I was a senior in high school. It was February, there wasn't any snow on the ground that day. It was a bright, beautiful, sunny day. I was sitting in the cafeteria with a bunch of my friends. It was second period and we all had study hall. The principal came on the intercom and told the entire school that our orchestra teacher had died after a terrible battle with lukemia. I walked up to my friends who had been in orchestra with me from the time we were fourth graders, hugged them, cried with them. I took my books and walked down the hall to the music room, and dropped them everywhere when I found my best friend. We hugged and cried in the middle of the hallway. We made it to the music room, where the rest of the orchestra was sobbing, whispering, listening to music, holding one and other.
Eventually I went home, as many of us did. My mother came home and we drove around for the rest of the day, crying, wondering, praying.
He was a great man, with two beautiful children, and brilliant music flowing out of his fingertips.
Whenever I hear "Adam's Song" by Blink 182 I am reminded of the fall day my senior year in high school when the school counselors came to us during orchestra and told us all that our beloved teacher was dying, that he would never be coming back to teach us. I remember the wailing, the tears free flowing, the embraces. I had only recently gotten my driver's license, and I found Rhonda in the parking lot and blasted my iPod all over town. When Adam's Song came on shuffle, I started sobbing. I was sitting at a red light outside of the DQ and shaws on the pike, waiting to drive and drive and drive and get away from the sadness and never look back.
I wish I could get back before these things happened. I wish I was still playing basketball in the backyard, picking blackberries in the summer, rolling down the sanddunes on the cape with my cousins, sitting in orchestra cracking jokes with my teacher.
I just wish it would all slow down. I wish the good came more often then the bad. I wish terrible things didn't happen to brilliant and beautiful people. I wish amazing things happened to everyone, and there were never any fights and never any war and cancer never existed. But that's not life, is it?
And so it goes.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Kansas She Says Is the Name of the Star
I haven't had any time recently, but it's a Friday afternoon and I'm feeling particularly lazy, so I'm just laying around doing nothing and it's wonderful.
Halloween is a week from today and unfortunately I believe this year will be the first year that I won't be going trick or treating. As in.. up until this point in my life I have always gone trick or treating. I don't know what is happening to me, it's like I'm turning into an old lady.
That's me in the lion costume ("Wonder Aslan," because someone ripped my tail off and I had to cover the gaping hole on my butt with something, so I used my wonder woman cape), and two of my best buddies as Robin and Hobo Man. We're superheroes.
I'm going to a party on Halloween (which is a Friday this year and I don't even want to speculate about the utter mayhem) but it's a costume party, so being the careful spender that I am (ppffffft) I'm just going to be wonder aslan again this year. It was a big hit last year and I got a ton of candy and everyone loved my mane. And it's good to reuse things like that anyway so it's a win win situation.
It just occured to me that I haven't posted any pictures from Newfoundland
A lighthouse
A pretty purple flower
The view of a sunset from Signal Hill
From Signal Hill
More Signal Hill
An ancient as hell lighthouse
The waves were outrageous
More waves
On the road to Cape Spear
Signal Hill
This gives you a good idea of what St. John's looks like downtown
I think this is my favourite picture
Halloween is a week from today and unfortunately I believe this year will be the first year that I won't be going trick or treating. As in.. up until this point in my life I have always gone trick or treating. I don't know what is happening to me, it's like I'm turning into an old lady.
That's me in the lion costume ("Wonder Aslan," because someone ripped my tail off and I had to cover the gaping hole on my butt with something, so I used my wonder woman cape), and two of my best buddies as Robin and Hobo Man. We're superheroes.
I'm going to a party on Halloween (which is a Friday this year and I don't even want to speculate about the utter mayhem) but it's a costume party, so being the careful spender that I am (ppffffft) I'm just going to be wonder aslan again this year. It was a big hit last year and I got a ton of candy and everyone loved my mane. And it's good to reuse things like that anyway so it's a win win situation.
It just occured to me that I haven't posted any pictures from Newfoundland
A lighthouse
A pretty purple flower
The view of a sunset from Signal Hill
From Signal Hill
More Signal Hill
An ancient as hell lighthouse
The waves were outrageous
More waves
On the road to Cape Spear
Signal Hill
This gives you a good idea of what St. John's looks like downtown
I think this is my favourite picture
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