Twenty

I'm two decades old today.

Twenty years ago I was twenty years younger than I am currently.

I'm going to see Up today, hopefully it will be uplifting cause this whole getting older thing is really getting old.

Tonight we're going out to celebrate the fact that I have twenty fewer years to live.

Commence quarter life crisis. I'll have to go out and get a sports car and a bad hair piece.

Hope everyone else is having a wonderful June 12 :)

Edit:
Up is a very cute movie, and made me cry like a baby with how adorable it is. However, if you're feeling self conscious about age, don't see Up. Score one for the nursing home, 0 for Rachel. le sigh.

June

Didn't realize this but I totally missed the one year anniversary of blogging, yay. It's been a great year, pretty eventful, a complete learning experience, but that's what life is all about. I hope you've had a good year too.

So we're back in June. June is probably my favourite month (though it's quickly becoming my least favourite month due to the fact that I somehow magically age one year every June... fml) because it's the start of summer and it's glorious. The pool is opened and we started hanging out outside more often and I'm free from the confines of the classroom (save for this summer... another fml).

This will be my first year of truly taking part in any pride events (besides starting and running the GSA and all that entails, going to Disney for gay days, going to P-Town on the regs, prop 8 rallies, etc.) because this year I'm going to Hartford Pride (next Saturday) and Boston Pride (June 13, the day after my birthday!). Hartford should be a good time because it's close to home so I don't have to drive a long distance, it should be small enough that I won't feel overwhelmed, and it will be a good opportunity for me to get a feel for real pride events.

Boston Pride is going to be huge, overwhelming, and probably a little scary, but it will be totally awesome because I love Boston and I haven't been out there in a few weeks. Boston Pride is one of the major pride parades so it should be really... insightful. Oh, and Melissa Etheridge is the celebrity marshal for Boston Pride 2009!?!?!?! Well, I don't think that means that she'll be there, but she's pretty freakin swell and I'd do basically anything for her so I'll totally be at Boston Pride.

Hope everyone is having a productive Monday thus far! Happy June!!

Schools (Not) Out for Summer

Today was my first day of my summer statistics course, and it actually went very well. It's two hours a day, four days a week, for a month. Not bad, not bad at all.

If I want to graduate in May 2011 I need to finish the statistics course that I already started. It's kind of a long and convoluted story, so I'll give you the brief version. And please, don't judge me because I know that a lot of students use the excuse that the professor is bitch or the professor hates them, and in this case both of those things are true and did happen to me. It's not an excuse at all, it's simply a fact.

I took AP statistics during my senior year in high school. Now, to get into an AP course you need permission from previous teachers, often you need to take an entrance exam, and you need to have taken all of the pre-requs. I did fairly well in AP stats, but I didn't score high enough on the AP Stats Exam for it to count as my statistics requirement for my college. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because I need stats for my psychology major and a lot of the research aspects of psychology draw heavily from statistics. Anywho, moving on.

I took Stats I Fall 2008, and did fairly miserably (but well enough to move on to Stats II). I got As on all of the exams (all 3 of them), did the homework assignments, etc. but absolutely bombed the final (which speaks volumes for my ability of lackthereof to take finals). Such is life, so I moved on to Stats II.

As it turns out, the professor got the impression that I was, more or less, taking up space and air in her classroom and proceeded to ignore me (when she would address psychology majors, of which there were only 2, myself included, in a class of about 15, she would purposely not address me), to take points off of exams and assignments for arbitrary reasons (I didn't "word" an answer to her liking so she would take an automatic 20 points off my exam, when my answer was similar to the answers of other students and my math was completely correct).

So I sent her an email and basically told her how I was feeling, that I felt like I was being treated unfairly and also that I felt that my situation was hopeless. She emailed me back and confirmed that she did think I was "unresponsive" in class (she cited some occasions during first semester when my eyelids would get heavy and I would look like I wasn't paying attention, for example THE DAY AFTER OBAMA WAS ELECTED sdf;ldhrewnc;welfdsfsdlf) and that she was sorry that I took it to heart.

So I emailed my advisor, at this point we had taken 3 of 4 exams (not including the final) and asked her what I should do, seeing as my situation was borderline hopeless. I had a 100 on the first test and a 50-something on the second test and a 50-something on the third test but I hadn't done the makeup test yet so the grade might have changed. My advisor informed me that it was the last day to drop the class, that she was out for the day but she has informed the psych department, my class advisor, the student success center and registrar to be looking for me (basically it was her suggestion that I drop the class immediately).

So I scrambled around, crying because I felt like a failure, and got the drop class form signed thanks to the speedy work and kindness of the staff at my school, no thanks to my c*nt of a professor.

I'm taking the second section of statistics at a university near where I live, totally different scene than I'm accustomed to but I'll get over it (I go to a college in the woods, 12 miles out of Boston, where I know all of my classmates names/majors and probably what kind of trouble they were getting in to last night, I don't know anyone in my class in CT and none of them know me... ahh the freedom of anonimity). At least my professor doesn't hate me yet, so maybe he'll grade me fairly and impartially and I'll be treated with respect this time. For the most part, though, this class will be a review for me because I've now taken statistics for almost 2 full years, and I basically know it like the back of my hand by now but now is my chance to prove that I know it, I can do the math, and I can give the professor what he wants (because he doesn't overtly disdain me).

So that's where I am today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday until June 25. I at least have some things to look forward to, like Hillary's grad party this weekend (Hill graduated from college May 17, poor dear), Hillary visiting next weekend, my 20th birthday (oh my GAWD) June 12, me visiting Hill the following weekend, my baby niece is predicted to be born the first weekend in July (here's hoping for July 4!) and so on and so forth until I get on a plane bound for London on September 2. Should be a good summer :)

Top of the Heap

One of my very best friends is turning 20 on Friday. He wants to go to New York, and well, gosh darn it, we're going to New York! It started out as just he and I, and now it has branched out to several of our mutual friends (definetly not complaining there, although I absolutely love one and one time with all of my friends, having a big group is always a lot of fun too). We're going in to Manhatten, taking the train to Union Station from New Haven and wandering around from there. Our first stop of the day will be the TKTS center, where hopefully we'll find a cheapish musical that we can go to, same day. Those of us who don't want to see a musical/can't afford it can wander around in a group and we'll all meet up later for a really nice birthday celebratory dinner. It's going to be fabulous.

I always get a little nervous when I go to cities, particularly New York city (I haven't been since my junior year in high school... almost three years ago eek). So many people and buildings, and really really tall buildings at that.

People with briefcases and cell phones. People who couldn't care less about your well being. People who live in boxes, people who live out of shopping carts, people who only wear Prada, people who can't speak English. So many people, so much going on. It's such a culture shock to go from quiet suburbia to loud and blaring city.

I get the same way when I'm in Boston, but to a lesser extent. Boston is my kind of city, there are huge business districts but then it tapers off. And I think the T is much more doable than the New York subway system.

In any event, I'm very excited to be going in to the big city on Friday. I'm not excited about having to wake up at an ungodly hour, however. I'm very unpleasant when I haven't gotten my 8 hours, and based on my sleeping patterns I can almost guarantee I won't be getting my eight for Friday.

Now I just need to find something "cute"ish to wear. I have no fashion sense at all, but I do love fashion. I'm really gay, but I don't dress like a lumberjack (most of the time). I want an outfit that says "Hey, look over here, I'm really gay but I have style too!!"

Please Return Your Tray Tables to the Upright and Locked Position

And don't forget to have the worst flight ever. Ugh, I do not even know where to begin.
We left Disney for the airport at about 4 in the afternoon, for a 6:30 flight on Delta. Little did we know that, upon arriving at gate 77 in Orland Intl. Airport, we would discover that our flight was delayed until 8.

I wasn't terribly upset, seeing as I really had nowhere better to be and doing better to be doing with my time. So I sat down with my new Vonnegut novel (Jailbird... it's really good so far!) and a mini box of wheat thins and I was completely satisfied with life.

My mother, on the other hand, was ripshit, and made it known to anyone who cared to listen. Eventually, the flight was delayed even further to 8:45, while we waited for the flight crew to come in. They were apparently delayed by weather, and we were assigned a new flight crew something crazy like that I have no idea what the hell was going on. All I know is we would all be arriving in Hartford at least 2 hours after we were originally scheduled to be arriving.

Finally the flight crew arrived, and we boarded the plane. The seats were 3 across on one side and 2 across on the other. We were sitting in a row of 2, directly across from where they keep the peanuts and diet cokes. Oh and where one of the emergency exits were located. Not cool, at all, totally not on the flight plan. It was SO noisy right there. AND the arm rest in betwen my mother and I wouldn't go up, so whenever I would stretch my seat would recline because my thigh rubbed against the little recline button.

Up until that point I was being my regular cool calm collected self, taking everything in stride and generally pissing my mother off with my mellow-ness. But the arm rest killed me. I was cramped, uncomfortable, and very pissed off. I travel a lot and this was by far one of the worst air travel experiences I have had thus far.

So Delta, if you're listening, you guys need to step up your act. I'm a frequent flier, and I'll start flying Southwest or American if this happens again.
Otherwise it was a very enjoyable, if not educational, vacation.

I'm dreading calling in to work and asking for my hours. I'm just dreading work in general. I would so much rather just lay around by the pool all summer and work on my awesomeness.

Oh, we're opening the pool today too! I'm super excited, it should be fully operational by Wednesday. My dog and I are so going to be the first "people" in the pool this year, we can't even wait. I can see the anticipation in her big brown eyes. The pool water is green right now, but pretty soon it's going to be crystal blue and oh man I just cannot even wait.

Speaking of amazing things, when we finally got home last night (walked through the door at almost exactly 1 am) I was pleasantly surprised with a banner and balloons at the bottom of the stairway right in front of the main door. My friends (who had been pet sitting for us and did WONDERFUL job) had left me a "happy birthday" banner, a "happy birthday" balloon and an "it's a girl" balloon. It was so cute and touching, I freakin love my friends. Molly and Kate, you guys are THE BEST (and so are you Natasha, I know you would have been in on it if you weren't in Poland... COMING HOME TOMORROW!!). Last year, for my 18th birthday, I woke up that morning to a "CONGRATULATIONS IT'S A GIRL!" sign on my front lawn. We left it there for a long time, and I still have it (I'll so have it forever).

There really are beautiful things in this world, like flowers and babies and rainbows (I saw a rainbow over the magic kingdom the other day, it was way cool). The most beautiful thing of all, though, is friendship. There is nothing like it in the world, and with friendship, anything and everything is possible.

Doncha Wanna Dance

I'm currently packing for my trip to Florida (we leave the house sometime around 5 am to get to the airport for a flight at around 8 am, should be to Florida/DISNEY somewhere around noon if all goes to plan), and by packing I mean watching my clothes lie motionless all around me. At least they're a little organized.

I decided not to go to work this morning, because I woke up at quarter to 6, coughed up a lung, took a shower, coughed up the other lung, and passed out on my bed again. My mom, the saint that she is, called my boss and told her that she "won't let me go in to work." I love her dearly.

We've been getting into little skirmishes lately, maybe it's because I've been home from school for about 3 weeks now and the magic has finally worn off. Maybe it's because we're both hormonal women. Maybe it's just everything catching up with us. I'm not sure what it is, and neither is she, but we'll work it out regardless of the cause of our issues. She thinks I'm awesome and I think she's the bees knees, so we'll be fine.

So with my free day today I:

• went to the doctor. She told me I don't have strep (after giving me a throat culture, bleh) and it's probably just allergies (waitta make me feel like a hypochondriac)
• went to Target and got some new clothes for the trip, along with burt's bees lip gloss (A MUST) and goldfish crackers
• started packing, have since stopped packing, but continue to think about packing
• picked out some wine for the trip (we likes us some wine)
• played with the dawg and the cat (they have no idea I'm leaving for a week, but when they realize it they will be migh-tee pissed)

That's basically my life in a nut shell, and I feel so much more productive than had I gone to work today. Soo soo much more.

I also rediscovered this gem of music nostalgia.

And have since not stopped dancing around in my new clothes, with my dog, being generally awesome.

Oh man I just saw a commercial for Lake Compounce (in CT) and it totally reminded me of my 10th birthday (I think it was my tenth... best ask the madre later). We piled a whole bunch of kids into our car and my sister's car (my sister is 17 years older than me, married when I was 7, and now has two kids who are the LIGHT of my life, literally) and drove down to Lake Compounce, which if you don't know is an "amusement park." We had a great day of riding the water rides and being too short for the roller coasters and things like that (I hate rollercoasters anyway) UNTIL we decided to ride the swings. Me about about, oh 10 I would say, of my friends all on the swings, the ones that spins around and around and go so high you can see for miles. Used to be my favorite ride. On this particular ride I sat behind a group of boys. I was on the outside swing, my feet all dangling in the air, the wind all rushing through my unkempt red hair, the sounds of laughter and happiness all echoing in my ears. Then the ride began its descent, and just as my feet touched the ground, the boy in front of me THREW UP allll over the ground. The ride slowed down so much that the barf went right under him and right in front of ME! Best. Birthday. Ever.

Since then I've never really experienced much joy on the swings, except for the time my friends and I were at Hershey Park (PA) and we saw a woman in the middle of hitting her son get hit in the head with a shoe that sailed off the foot of a passenger on the swings. That'll learn her to hit her kid.

That reminds me. I turn nineteen next Thursday. Nine years since the barf incident. WOOP WOOP!