...Good Story

When you're actually telling the truth, but parents don't believe you...

2012-02-09T07:47:00.000-08:00

So...
I'm not going home for Spring Break. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying in Des Moines.
I just decided this within the past couple of days. Like the many of you who read this blog (or happen upon it) I am a broke young adult. I have the opportunity to stay here for a week and get some hours working. I currently work at our fitness center--doing nothing really other than standing around with my shirt and name tag on as if I'm going to be of some service to somebody. I got trained in first aid and CPR, but to be honest if an emergency came up: A) I would probably be too freaked out to use that training, and B) There are other trained, older, more responsible individuals who would take the reigns. Anyway, I have 1.5 hours per week, but I do pick up extra shifts here and there. Even if I only get 5 hours over Spring Break (it would be a bummer, who am I kidding?) that's better than getting nothing at home. Ideally I want at least 10 hours...I can't imagine I'll get 20...but that would be really awesome. Regardless of how much I'm working, being stuck in Des Moines means I won't be going to movies, shopping, out to eat, spending money on gas. Yes, it's bound to be dreadfully boring. But on the bright side there are some real benefits to being in Des Moines.
1-The Bell Center is open...so I can workout every day. I don't have a gym membership at home...very few endorphins are spiked whilst sitting on my couch.
2-While break occurs right after midterms, and I may not have too much homework, I can possibly work ahead.
3-In addition, I can watch movies...we have a gazillion between me and my roommates.
4-I can clean my room really well!
5-I can unfold the futon and never have to put it up for a whole seven days, and I can sleep on it.
6-I can nap in the living room.
7-I can do laundry.
8-I can read.
9-I can blog about my adventures/boredom.
10-I can skype my friends.
11-I can buy eggs and make myself breakfast.
12-Okay, at this point I'm just saying anything.

Anyway, I told my mom about my plan to stay here during Spring Break and she doesn't get it. First she didn't believe me. She asked me what my roommates were doing for Spring Break...any trips or anything? Not really. One is going to Mexico, the others I assume are just going home. I believe her response to this was "You're not just sneaking off on a trip and not telling us are you?"
Are you kidding me? No. I'm completely broke. I thought she would understand this decision a little bit. Honestly, I would love to be in Minnesota and see my friends. But I also have to think about what is practical. I'm applying for other jobs right now for the semester (Wallgreen's, Subway, Kum&Go), and if I get hired I wouldn't really feel comfortable taking a whole week off right away. It is important for me to make and save money--both as an adult, and also as a girl who needs to have something to pay rent next year when I'm living in a house off campus.
I have no reason to lie to my parents. They know I wouldn't be stupid enough to spend money I don't have on a trip right now. They know I probably would be much happier being home and not working, and that it's taking a lot for me to stay here alone for 9 days. I do really like my me time...but I've never had a week's worth. But I honestly don't see a more responsible alternative. My mom is disappointed more than anything, I think. As much as she doesn't like being alone, she hates to think we (my brother, sister, dad, me) are lonely. Maybe that's why she's upset, or she thinks I'm being selfish because it's another week she's alone when she technically doesn't have to be. I don't know. I just think it's a sacrifice I won't regret making. If I sacrificed the hours and went home, I guess I wouldn't regret that either. But I'm hoping it'll prove to be a week of growth, contemplation, and learning more about myself. Gah. I just don't know...there's still time to change my mind.
...Good story.

Ill

2011-12-23T20:58:00.000-08:00

So...
I'm working at Applebee's over my Winter Break, and it is so good to be back. Working there is such a welcomed change of pace, the people are friendly, and it's an enjoyable way to make money. I've been working every day since I got home, and the only foreseeable day as of right now that I have off is Christmas day. Yes, I work Christmas Eve. But I don't care. It doesn't interfere with my celebrations, and I love working!
Yesterday I showed up to work at 4:00 and an hour later another hostess showed up. But the way we're scheduled is one person at 4, then the next at 5:30 and there are two hostesses until things are too slow to need two. Then first on gets cut. So she was there half an hour too early. The manager let her clock in anyway...but get this, at 5:30 a third hostess arrives. The first girl was like "See I knew I was scheduled for 5:00." Um, hello. We only have 3 hosts on Friday and Saturday nights. I know that and I've been gone for 5 months. You've worked here a year! Allegedly they've been having issues with this worker. Anyway, the manager gave me and the 5:30 girl the option to go home and let her take a shift. She wasn't even scheduled! But I let her finish my shift as I had a developing headache/nausea. I didn't feel sick all day, but I wasn't feeling hungry since breakfast, and there was nothing that even sounded remotely appetizing. So I went home.
I was getting worse, and I'd convinced myself that if I'd stayed at work I would have felt fine because I had to. I needed to throw up, but I couldn't make myself do it, and I hadn't eaten--or really drank--anything to do it. A few hours later, my body decided to help itself. I was going to blow. I got up from the couch and headed to the bathroom and apparently I fainted in the hallway.
I woke up to my mom yelling. I managed to sit myself up and become aware that I was shaking on the ground before she saw me laying on the floor. But still sitting on the floor in the hallway is kind of unsettling after a loud thud. I realized that I had been on my way to throw up and so I checked the floor...no mess. That's why: still felt it in my stomach. There it went, in the toilet where it belonged. And shortly thereafter I see red. I was puking blood. I was a little scared. I've never fainted in my life--come close once, but I haven't. And now I'm puking blood? Nope. One look in the mirror and I realized the blood was coming from my chin. No corners or anything sharp in the hallway for me to have cut myself on, but I had a cut. My mom saw it and thought it needed stitches. I saw it and didn't think so. But as I got a closer look it became clear that it was deeper than first glance. It was kind of a wide plane sort of scrape, but there was a hole in the middle. So we went to urgent care. The novacaine was the worst part...and the part where I was sitting there with the super old doctor humming and mumbling to himself as he thought through each individual stitch...while the nurse, irritated with the doctor, responded to his questions with "Yes doctor." and "Well Doctor so-and-so always requests the one with teeth..." I wanted to scream at them and laugh at the same time.
I hit my whole left side of my face on the way down. I feel a bruise on my cheek bone and near my eyebrow. They didn't check for a concussion, which my mom was upset about, but I think it's safe to say I didn't have one. I called in to work to ask if I should stay home today. We have a policy that you can't work for 24 hours after throwing up...and I threw up a lot considering I didn't eat a lot...the manager said if I felt fine to come in. I felt okay. I feel much better now, but these stitches are kind of annoying...they're not even the kind that dissolve. I hope it leaves a nice scar. Am I weird that I like scars?
...Good story.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

2011-12-20T21:34:00.000-08:00

So...
I love shopping. It's so dangerous. I think I like spending money too much, and it doesn't matter what on.
I have finished all my Christmas shopping and boy is it good that I am working of Winter Break...because somehow I need to get books for next semester. No worries.
I didn't have too much shopping to do. A few friends, and my family.
I don't want to spoil it for anyone who reads this and may be receiving a gift...
For one friend, we haven't discussed whether we are exchanging gifts or not, but I got her something anyway. It's been forever since I've seen her, and she's gotten me gifts in the past for other occasions (going away to school and other friendship moments). She is a really better and more thoughtful friend. and I've gotten her rebound gifts after her generosity...this year: I'm not going to be the rebound gifter. I just hope we get a chance to get together.
Some other friends and I decided to exchange gifts for the first time, which is really exciting. I've already wrapped them and attached the card. But I'm not sure when we're exchanging. I anticipate the day we do so I can see their reactions...let's just say there is glitter involved!
For my family, I'm super happy about my purchases. My mom told me what she wanted, sort of. So obviously I went with something else...she wanted a special spatula...but I honestly had no idea what I was looking for because she made it sound special or different somehow. So I got her a sweater. I've never bought her clothes before...but she does need clothes. Plus it's really soft, and a pretty color.
I'm probably the most proud of my dad's gift. Being on the road a lot he has plenty of time to think. He talks all the time about how he wants to write a book. He has a lot of different experiences that he thinks people will be interested in reading--unfortunately I don't quite agree with the memoir genre, and I feel it is easy to make the author seem like an ego-maniac through it. However, I wasn't going to let that prevent my dad from doing something that he might really want to try. So I ordered him a book:

"Writing Life Stories: How To Make Memories Into Memoirs, Ideas Into Essays And Life Into Literature"

I think he'll have time to read it, and it is a subject he might truly want to pursue, as he's made fairly clear. But I do think reading about writing helps writers a lot. And it's coming in 2 days FREE SHIPPING! Too perfect!

For my brother and sister...well they're more difficult. My brother wanted a CD of a local band: Doomtree. But I didn't know where to find it. He mentioned some store in St. Paul, but I wasn't really ready to go to St. Paul by myself looking for a store I'd probably get lost going to, not to mention lost in. So instead, I got him something equally practical, but perhaps less likable? I don't know. The important thin is that the fiscal and entertainment value of the gift matches what I got for my sister in the sense that they are nearly the same gift. I included gift receipts too, so if either of them needs something at Walmart, they can always make an exchange...

To summarize: this shopping was moderately successful and partially unknown.

...Good story?

Politics

2011-11-17T18:09:00.001-08:00

So...
I learned a bit today. I'm one of those people, I'll admit it. I understand the generalities of my political stance, but little more. I fail to really understand both sides of politics. So I've been a hypocrite for awhile. A fervent Obama supporter throughout his first campaign, I was taken over by the hype, as I often can be. Today I had the opportunity to attend a town hall style forum for Michele Bachmann. It was as great as it sounds. Actually it was better.
I'm taking a rhetoric class this semester. I signed up for it because at the time I needed it for my endorsement in the school of education. Since I'm changing my endorsement, I decided it was an unnecessary class for me that I would drop, but at this point in the semester it would go on my record as a withdrawal. Honestly, it isn't my hardest class by any means, so it's not worth the W on my record. My point is that I don't think this class is pointless.
Similar to classes I took in high school, this class encourages us to consider different viewpoints, and to identify when we are being "bought."
When Bachmann first took the stage she began speaking about our current reality in the United States. She was almost coming across as relatable. Obviously this was her tactic to draw us in before she ripped our political views apart. Nice try.
Unexpectedly, Bachmann did not present herself as a floundering idiot today. She spoke very well, and maintained her conviction as students drilled her. But she avoided many questions or placed blame elsewhere.
I won't summarize everything she said, or offer my opinions on everything. I can link a few articles if you're interested in reading more.
What you won't find in an article is what Bachmann said about global warming. She discussed a plan for taking advantage of recently discovered fossil fuel on American Territory, and off the coast. She expressed concern that China was taking advantage of drilling off the coast of Florida, but our own government was not allowing us to do so. She said her goal as president would be to bring gas prices below 2 dollars again (as they were the day President Obama was elected). I have a problem with this insinuation that Obama is the reason gas is going up...She would do this by taking advantage of our resources, not by restricting how much companies can charge. Taking advantage of our resources would create "1.4 million more jobs" and boost the economy enough so that we no longer need to charge ridiculous prices. This was sounding good, but what does she think about funding the exploration into new energy sources? She flat out said that the department of energy won't let us do that. Research is being done, and has been being done for the past thirty years because we all know oil is not renewable energy, and we're going to need a backup some day. But still, they aren't letting us look into other options. But what about global warming? Apparently, that does not exist. Science tells us that if we follow Al Gore's plan, the average global temperature would decrease less than a tenth of a percent over 100 years time. That's not even measurable, so we're worrying about nothing. She also stated that research shows the CO2 emissions for the United States are significantly less than that of all the oceans combined. So I guess that's the standard, have a smaller carbon footprint than the ocean and you're untouchable.
Rant aside, what I realized today is that American Politics is fucked up. Yes, fucked up. I don't think I've sworn in a blog post before. My roommate who isn't entirely politically in tune said she cares about the future, but she can't trust either side of the political spectrum. That's what is keeping her from investing in politics. She has a good point. There are a lot of people--myself included--who fail to understand politics completely, but have opinions on a lot of issues.
Look at history. How often do we go back and forth? We saw 8 years with Clinton, then 8 Bush, then it switched back to the liberals with Obama. America wants to be bipartisan. So the republican thing wasn't working...time for a democrat to come in with a different kind of disfunction to balance the old mistakes out.
If every citizen was set with one party consistently, we wouldn't see so much of this change in leadership. It doesn't seem that either party works...yet the educated elite...those lawyers and businesspeople who ultimately run for office are so passionate about their side and their plan being right. How is it that bipartisan, independent, or moderate candidates haven't risen? Have we truly had a candidate who represents the people? I feel that if America is so split and indecisive, we should have a nominee who is indecisive, and willing to evaluate all options. The "educated" candidates we tend to have always seem too stubborn to do so. Probably because most of them were lawyers...our society stigmatizes lawyers, but somehow it's okay for them to be politicians?
I don't really know where I'm going with this now, so I'll spare you. I feel a little more enlightened today...we'll see how long this lasts. Being in Des Moines I feel a need to be more politically in touch...though I'm pretty sure all the crazy stuff is going down during winter break before I get back for next semester...but still I feel it's an opportunity to take advantage of.
...Good story

Des Moines Register
Huffington Post
Globe Gazette
CNN

I enjoy reading the comments below each article...in addition to looking at the pictures. There were lots of people with a variety of protesting attire/signs. One girl wore a "Friends don't let friends vote republican" shirt as she posed in front of the Bachmann for President banner. Another wore a Ron Paul shirt and held a Ron Paul sign as he posed with Bachmann herself. Someone wore a Raygun (that's a store in Des Moines with witty apparel) shirt that promoted gay rights as he posed with her. There was a girl in the front row, who you'll notice in the picture with the CNN article who wore an Obama shirt. She raised her hand during the Q&A but wasn't called on...how unfortunate.

People Who Think They Are Intellectually Superior

2011-10-04T13:01:00.000-07:00

So...
Nothing interesting happens to me anymore. And I don't have a lot of time to blog. But this is something that has been bothering me so much that I had to set aside a few minutes to rant it out.
There is this girl in my rhetoric class that argues everything. She wants to be a lawyer--how appropriate. The class is rhetoric, so I guess she has some right to use it...but seriously it is borderline ridiculous.
Last week the question was asked "Why do we like Lincoln? None of us has personal experience with him as our leader of the free world, but we all like him." The point was that rhetoric and persuasion have lead to our belief that historical figures are good or bad, and we don't reach these conclusions through experience.

Someone raised their hand and said we like Lincoln because he freed the slaves. Then this girl--whose immaturity wouldn't be so irritating if she wasn't a senior in college--has to clarify that Lincoln did not free the slaves, and that the students' statement is a misconception. Her point was that slavery didn't end immediately. The actual freeing required a process. Why is she arguing the point? We're not fifth graders, we know that legislation requires a decision first and then a plan to reach the decision. We can all agree that Lincoln set those events in motion, so just calm yourself...don't start an argument just to disagree.

I think what really sent it over was what she said in class today. I'd first like to say it is great that she is so knowledgeable about the cold war. I for one, know very little about it, and this girl seems fully educated about every single event. We barely started talking about it, and under her breath to a friend she said, "I don't understand why so few people our age know so little about the Cold War. It baffles me. I mean, it was during our lifetime...or at least mine."

So much is wrong with this! First of all, don't be so condescending. Not everyone knows about the Cold War, maybe we should, but it's not so inconceivable that people don't. Secondly, how old are you? I know the Cold War was long, but the typical college student these days is a 90s kid. Maybe you were born in the late 1980's, a typical senior in college would be a 1989-1990 baby. But we grew up in the 90s...unarguable. So the Cold War didn't really end until 1989 and its effects lingered for a few more years. Unless you are Benjamin Button, it is not a reasonable assumption to say you know everything about it simply because you were alive at the time. As a kid that young you likely weren't effected to any significant extent. It is a similar reason 10 to 15 year olds don't have the same sentiments regarding 9/11 as do many adults who are much older, even than we are. Obviously this girl learned a lot about the Cold War, and it seems she is discrediting the work she put into learning it. To expect everyone else to have inherited knowledge about it simply by existing during 2% (I didn't care to do any real math, so don't read so much into that number) of its duration is absurd.

But what really bothered me was when the professor asked us if we remembered Colin Powell's involvement in the search for WOMDs. She had nothing to say. Well I think she may have said "I vaguely remember that." Come on!!!!! Seriously? You only look more stupid for your previous assertion that more people should know about the Cold War since it was 'during our lifetime.' You were older at this time, so if you attribute your knowledge of the Cold War to your experience, then there is no reason for you to only have a vague idea and not be able to expand further.

Not to say that I have any recollection of Colin Powell's involvement either, but I also didn't act like I know anything about the Cold War. Gah! Rant over. I apologize if you read the whole thing. I realize posts like this are only relatable if you were in that situation with me, but there is no one I can get into a conversation about our mutual distaste with.

...Good story

Rant: Abortion

2011-09-09T08:31:00.000-07:00

So...
While walking around campus, one can see many a message raving about pro-life and that everyone wants a choice but babies would choose to live. Regardless of which side I stand on the matter (a side that will be obvious to anyone who reads this), I want to know why this is a hot-topic issue right now. The economy is kind of sucky at the moment and we need to figure things out, so can the abortion topic take the back burner for a bit?
In addition, I want to know who the audience is of these messages. As someone who isn't pregnant, or even sexually active in the slightest, how does that message affect me? More women aren't pregnant than are. At the most the messages would convince me to never get an abortion in my life. But most women are likely to never need or want abortions. It's not like these messages reach out to no one on campus, but it's more likely that they reach out to people who already agree with them. They're not even real arguments. I haven't seen one with a statistic in it, or a scientific study.
You don't see pro-choice messages around. Maybe you should. It always feels like the people who post flyers or write messages like this are just on one side. No one ever goes around "You have options, it's your choice and your choice only." or statistics about poverty among teen mothers. Or statistics about babies that are aborted for health reasons and developmental deficiencies during gestation. Not to mention women who never wanted to have sex in the first place.
People only write things like this in response to the conservative messages posted in the first place.
Last year a bunch of Christians on campus wrote bible verses about Jesus, and encouraged people to find him and follow him. In response, people wrote "Jesus said drink, so we drank." and other clever messages next to the originals. I feel like we'd all coexist a lot better if no one wrote such strong messages to begin with. Face it, you're likely never going to change a pro-lifer's views. And you probably have just as good a chance of changing a pro-choicer's mind. Let's start focusing on real issues, people.
...Good story.

I Have a Goal

2011-08-04T19:40:00.000-07:00

So...
My goal for the year is to get published. Not REALLY published, but not unreal, either.
Periphery is Drake's art and literary journal. My professor last year recommended I be part of it. Not as a writer, but as part of the selection committee. Both of which would be incredible honors. Given how little I read, or enjoy reading. Being told that I am a good critic and analyst of literature is a nice compliment. And maybe I'd like to be part of that aspect of the journal, too. But writing is my real dream.

I didn't think I had anything good to contribute to it last year. I didn't produce the best works in my creative writing class. One short story sample had me dead-ended and with no ideas for recovery, and the other was way too personal and accurate (yet overly dramatized slightly) to my own life to submit. In fact, I deleted that story from my hard drive and shredded the only hard copy I had left. I guess there was another one, that I was pretty happy with called "The Ron" but that was also sort of based on someone I actually know, and it wasn't a story...but a vivid character description.

While going through my documents, I reread my short story sample (now that it's been at least 10 months) and I was inspired by it. I can edit it, and I can add some stuff. And I'm going to rewrite, and edit, and rewrite and edit. I may post it on this blog for some input. But I'm definitely going to submit it this year! I'm really pumped now. Soon I'll get off this crafting wagon I've been happily trapped on for quite some time, and refocus my attention to something more productive for my future. Something I really, really want! I'm really anxious right now. I think I'll get started.

If I get in it I'll snag all the copies I can get and show it off. Because I have to start being comfortable letting others read my work. By others I mean friends and family, they're the hardest to open up to for real. Copies are free...not like this is happening anytime soon. But whether I'm in it or not, I'd definitely recommend it to others. Just ask and I'll snag you a copy. They come out in April.
...Good story

Last One, I Promise

2011-07-18T09:35:00.000-07:00

I had it narrowed down to two...a brown one with jewels on the frames and sides, which weren't too far off from a pair of sunglasses I've had in the past. And another pair--purpleish with tiny jewels on the actual sides, so they really wouldn't be visible from the front. I didn't want to be too over the top...because, though I only really need them to drive...they're going to be very helpful in class, too...so people are going to see these on me.

We had them. Picked out, purchased, they just need to be cut, framed, and picked up the Tuesday after the fourth of July. That's it. But were we out of there? Of course not. The guy went on to talk about how he's been cutting glass since he was 8, and making aquariums since he was 10. He made a glass case for the science museum at 10, and it's still there today. He told us about his suburban, which my dad thought was really a "beauty," and how he's flying to florida to get another suburban (mildly used, 2003) for really cheap, because they don't have any need for suburbans in florida...what with no snow, or hunting, really.

Then he bragged about his up-and-coming China business...which basically means he's taking the opportunity to monopolize in China--who currently has 4 optometrist companies in the whole country. These employ people who only need to pass a 2 page test to perform exams (instead of 8 years of school), and then their turnaround time is 3 weeks before the glasses are finished for the customer (his would be 24 hours). And he said something about how they don't keep records of prescriptions, so essentially nothing is reported as far as taxes go...and his partner's uncle is the American ambassador to China, so he has an in. Basically this guy was saying that his eye place is going to be the best in China, and the only one like it...and soon the only one that can operate because he's getting the regulations changed...and he's planning on making bank. Whooptydoo. Honestly, a monopoly like that can only last so long in a communist society.

Then he was bragging about his newspaper appearances. He's been in the St. Paul Pioneer Press 7 times because of the decorative contact lenses he makes for halloween costumes...and the ones he's had featured and worn by celebrities. Apparently he is one of "6 people in the world" who can make these contacts.

Trust me, as bored as you are getting with this story, that's going on its millionth post...I was ready to get out of there. And my dad likes to talk too (wonder where I get it from), so the whole event lasted around an hour...only 15 minutes or so involved me actually trying on glasses. Then we finally got out of there.

In the end, I guess I am indifferent about getting glasses. For awhile I was like, "well these would be a nice accessory." And then I was like..."but they would be such a hassle...just another thing I might break or lose...especially with my history with sunglasses." And "I guess I don't need sunglasses anymore...that's sad." Now I'm kind of like, "At least it's just for driving, and a few occasions...maybe I'll look sophisticated." But I'm also like, "this just means in 2 years I'm going to need glasses ALL the time."

Like most things, I'm making this a bigger deal than it needs to be.

...Good story.

After it Came (Part 2)...at this point, who really cares?

2011-07-17T10:30:00.000-07:00

I went back to the eye place to get my glasses. Of course both my parents needed to come...seeing as my mom is the "style expert?" and my dad has the most knowledge regarding glasses. Like most things, I didn't really want to try a bunch on. I just wanted to see them, try them, like them and be out of there. I cut the options in half, thankfully, after deciding against any pair that had those rubber nose thingy's...hmm...I'm going to Google what those are called....hold on a second.

Lame...the technical term for those, is "nose pads." Super lame...even the dot on a j or i is called a tittle...that's a FUN term.

So we were just looking at the ones without the nose pads. I liked one of the first pairs (probably the first) pair I tried on...but had to keep looking. I think I only liked 2 out of them all (I think I'm just against glasses completely...). My new requirement after the nose pad thing, is that they had to be full frames, none of this theframeisonlyonthetop hullabaloo for me. But my mom started looking at this pair that were essentially the ones I liked, just not with a frame around the bottoms. I told her they made my cheeks look funny, and my face look short. And she tells me that she's looking at my eyes, and with less frame they look more natural, and my "beauty" isn't masked. Seriously...remember the plan? Try, like, get out. None of this "what you think is better" stuff. Really, I wish my mom could just decide for me from ones I like. So if I was torn between two she'd be the last word. Unfortunately, she ends up bringing more into the mix that weren't wanted...and pushes for them until I tell her "No" firmly, at which point she says, "I'm not trying to force it...just offering it as a possibility."

NO!!!!!!!!

But I'm exactly the same way...

After it Came (Part 1)

2011-07-16T10:35:00.000-07:00

I crossed the street to sit in the shade by the man-made pond beneath some town homes. I faced the pond with my back to the passersby, so as not to look so out of place...or at least to avoid being identified. There I saw the mother duck and her young ones...mesmeriment (I made that word up...mesmerizement?) kept me occupied for the 20 minutes until my mom arrived. She finally did and then we took the daycare kids to McDonalds. That went over real well...we taught the cute one to drink through a straw. She now says "Donald's" when we ask her where she ate lunch. Kids are always cuter when they're out of their element. My mom never takes them on field trips except on walks to the park. So if we ever see them at target, a parade, or anywhere else they find it bizarre and are really shy around us. Or if we take them somewhere, they know it's really special. I love kids.

Though I shudder at the thought of fast food, and I shudder even worse at McDonald's...I had some of the 20 chicken nuggets and fries we ordered...which only reminded me why I shudder. I swear there will never be a single McNugget order that doesn't have cartilage in the chicken. What was I thinking? Those poor children...poorer because, though it is a rare occasion for my mom to bring them to McDonald's, I know it's more routine to them otherwise...

I Didn't See it Coming (Part 4)

2011-07-15T10:30:00.000-07:00

But it wasn't over. He then had to make me read an eye chart. I hate reading those things. Mainly because the round letters always screw me up.

Q, G, O?

Then he put these lenses in front of my eyes, and went in with the light again...this time sans "dancing."
He kept adjusting the lenses with different combinations and asking me which looked clearer. It's kind of cool in a way because there are a billion different combinations, it seems. It got to a point where neither option seemed clearer, just clear in a different way...if that makes sense.

It turns out I need glasses. I am nearsighted, so I can't see distances very well. But I only need them for driving (specifically at night) and at my discretion. Apparently it's not absolutely necessary during daytime driving. I'd pass a test without them...but basically unless I am wearing sunglasses, I really don't have an excuse not to wear them. Except for the fact that I really don't want my eyes to get any worse...and if I wear them too much I'll probably adapt to them and need stronger ones eventually.

When I left there, they didn't give me my prescription because they assume I'm coming back to buy them there. What if I don't want to? What if I'd rather buy them somewhere else? Goodness. I guess it doesn't really matter...I'll be entering sketchy mart again soon.

What's ironic, is that when we got our new insurance, my dad had to change eye care places...and he didn't like this old guy either. He wanted to find someone else. He even said that an eye-care chain would be better because they hire new people who are still eager about what they're doing...but I still ended up there. Anywhoo...

After I left, I felt awkward...because my mom was at the park with the daycare kids...and I didn't have my cell phone with me to call her. So I walked around suspiciously trying to find somewhere to sit...no benches...and somewhere not in sight of the people in the eye place, but still nearby the building so my mom can find me when she picks me up...so I sat in the grass by a sidewalk on a busy street...two bikes rode by and several cars. It was uncomfortable.

I Didn't See it Coming (Part 3)

2011-07-14T10:30:00.000-07:00

Finally another guy comes out to the "lobby" if you can even call it that. I guess this was the doctor? He and the owner are at least in their late 60's, but I'd venture to say mid-70's. He takes me to the back room and asks me what the problem seems to be. He also asks about my allergies, and if there's a history of high blood pressure and diabetes in my family. I understand the diabetes thing because it can lead to eye problems...but it just seemed a little unnecessary.

Then he takes his little light thing, shines it in my eye while getting really close to my face and moving all around. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen, and I can't laugh. I really shouldn't laugh. Oh my gosh, it would be so bad if I laughed. So I tried to concentrate on something else. You know when you look at something and look away you can still see the negative of what you were looking at before? I started seeing veiny patches floating in front of me. It was like by shining a light in my eye, I became able to see the veins. How strange. But that only broke my concentration on the hilarity for a brief moment. After what felt like 5 minutes, but was probably only 1 or 2, he moved on to the next eye. Again, I was trying my hardest not to laugh. I did break a smile...I hope he didn't notice.

He said my eyes look fine. Hmm...so I've been imagining things all along.

I Didn't See it Coming (Part 2)

2011-07-13T10:30:00.001-07:00

My mom drove me to the eye doctor...daycare kids in tow (or rather, the back seat). She dropped me off and I entered the building. Through the door, not the window.

It's the sketchiest place ever. No customers/patients anywhere to be seen...an aquarium with a big black fish in it, some brown carpet with brown chairs to match, and wooden paneling on the walls. It felt like it was stuck in the 70's. There were glass cases everywhere, suggesting that it used to be a jewelry store. Which makes sense, I suppose...eye ware is displayed very similarly to jewelry...

There was no one to check me in or anything. Even the bells on the door didn't make my presence evident to the whole 2 people supposedly working there at the time. Then another guy came in just to get an "adjustment." The bells were loud enough for him I suppose. He started talking to me, and I felt bad that I couldn't really understand him through his accent. Then the owner came out and asked what he needed. The glasses were too tight for his face, I guess. So what did the owner do? He took them from him and bent them outward. That's all. Then he did a service and cleaned them for the guy too. He said if he ever needed them adjusted to bring them in again...seriously it looked pretty simple. Then he made a joke about it costing $1,000 and the guy left. The owner, who at the time I thought was the doctor, noticed a duck and her ducklings in the parking lot. Mind you this was the second hottest day this year so far, and they weren't even in the shade. The pond was across the street. The owner goes outside, stands right by the mother and her ducklings, and starts gesturing with his hand at them to move. They didn't budge. Meanwhile, I'm sitting there like "this is great...how long am I going to be waiting for this to end?"

I Didn't See it Coming (Part 1)

2011-07-12T10:30:00.000-07:00

Pun Intended--Though in reality, I did see it coming (I am nearsighted after all.) Okay, enough with the lame puns.

So...
Last summer at my physical the doctor told me I'm 20/25, which basically means that what an average person sees from 25 feet away, I see from 20 feet away (I can't see very far). Then in classes I've noticed seeing the board is difficult, so I need to be close to the front. Whatever...it's no big deal.

Lately, I've had difficulty seeing when I drive at night. I'm sorry, passengers...just be grateful you're still alive. Though the streets are relatively unlit, and the clouds blocked the moonlight (which is really sunlight reflecting off the moon) I don't recall having this problem before when driving home from this friend's house.

So I did the unmentionable. I went to the eye doctor...I guess this is where the story gets long...so take a break if necessary. I'm going to detail my entire visit...because that's how I tell stories. The beauty of blogging my story is that I always get to the end because I'm not interrupted...the disbeauty...perhaps individuals get bored and just stop reading. I know I would...maybe I'll just make this a multi-parter...or is that unnecessary?

Money is the Root of My Dysfunction

2011-07-09T20:40:00.000-07:00

So...
My Day:
Wokeup.Atebreakfast.Sataround.WenttoOldNavy.Spenttoomuch$atOldNavy.RegisteredforanOldNavy
ChargerCardtosave$15atOldNavy.Gothome&canceledmychargecardafterpayingitoffonline.Camehome.
Wenttoagradparty.Ateatastycookie.Leftparty.WenttoGoodWilltobrowse.Foundnothing.WenttoBlockBuster.Shouldn'thaveboughtanythingthere.ButofcourseIdid.King'sSpeech.EasyA.ILoveYouBethCooper.Amelia.Andanotheraboutmusic?WenttoLibraryandcheckedoutlotsofCD'stomakeupforALLthe$$$Ishouldn'thavespenttoday.Andabookcalled"7DayAfghans."Pickedupstrangeronthewayhome.Broughtsaidstrangertoherresidence.Camehometoclean
myroombutinsteadwenttomygrandma'swithmymom.Camehome&atedinner.Meatloaf.Startedcleaningroom
butreallyjustthrewoutabunchofoldclothes.Watched'Killers'withmymomwhilecuttingoldclothesupsoIcan
makeapillowoutofthem.Idon'tplanonspendingmoneyforawhile.........I'mslowlyworkingongettinganewwardrobe...todaywasjusttooimpulsive.
...Goodstory.

I Really Like this Song

2011-07-08T22:09:00.000-07:00

So...
I loved the movie Juno. It took place in MN, and it was about a pregnant teen whose life WASN'T perfect...and she didn't have a fairytale fantasy of having the perfect little family. It didn't condone teen pregnancy, and it explored the REAL options out there for unwanted babies. Even abortion..."All Babies Want to get borned" haha...that was a great scene. But seriously, having fingernails does not mean abortion is wrong. Okay, I'll drop that topic right now...I don't want to get into an argument.

When I saw Easy A last year, I made the statement...bold as it may be...that it was BETTER than Juno. And I don't take it back. Both these movies could be really good or really sucky. I liked the plot of Easy A a lot. It's one of those "I'd buy that" kind of movies.

I was reminded of Easy A a few times recently. First with Blockbuster selling it...I still have plans to buy it.
Then with a commercial for another movie (ironically, also with Emma Stone). It wasn't Emma Stone who reminded me of Easy A, though. Initially it was the song played in the commercial. Sweet Thing's "Change of Seasons" is one of my current favorite songs. I bought the Easy A soundtrack on iTunes solely for that song...because you couldn't buy it on its own. The soundtrack also happens to fall right up there on my favorites along with Juno (OOBER LOVE FOR THE JUNO SOUNDTRACK). Long story short...I really like this song...

...Good Story

So Sick of These Movies

2011-07-08T21:57:00.000-07:00

So...
I was reminded of my Secret Life of the American Teenager post/rant recently. And here is another one like it.

I went to a movie with my mom...and we saw a preview for a movie about casual sex. Upon looking the movie up, it's not entirely about casual sex...of course there has to be something more and seemingly deeper to it, right?

Anyway. Just the mention of "it's only sex" rubbed me the wrong way. Aren't there enough movies like this? Whether it's something I live by or not, as a premise of a movie...can't we get over it already? Let's look at the movies just this year...or at least recently...

Love and Other Drugs
No Strings Attached
Friends with Benefits

and now this other one called
One Day.
((The premise of this movie is that this couple--Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess--has one fantastic night...but it doesn't lead anywhere. Because he is a jerk who just wanted the sex...and she LOVES him, but doesn't LIKE him (actual line from the trailer). That same day is visited year after year, following the individuals through the years and their hits/misses with each other...and we all know that they'll probably end up together and live happily forever.))
Also, I'm sick of movies with Anne Hathaway starting out hideous and ending up beautiful. You can only give someone curly hair and glasses so many times before it gets old.
(ie. Princess Diaries, The Devil Wears Prada, and now this one? I'd even venture to say Get Smart was a similar situation, because her character was made to look younger with plastic surgery...but she was never ugly in that movie. Let's face it. She is never ugly...just unmade up.)
Aren't we over it? Seriously. I don't care if that's your lifestyle. I don't even care if movies subtly promote that lifestyle, and show a sex scene that later "means nothing" or "can't lead to anything else." But as the premise of the movie, I think it has been overplayed for the moment. But this is what society has come to...
...Good story.

Rant Over.

Were they born this way?

2011-07-06T21:31:00.000-07:00

So...
Today some customers threw me for a loop. There were three of them. And they were young, around my age...maybe in high school. They were all girls, presumably...I didn't really think anything of it. I went through my spiel of "Hello, how are you, just 3 of you tonight? Booth or table?" and the tall girl never answered. She just stared at me awkwardly--silently giggling. The way the other two were also staring at her grinning struck me somehow. I then saw it, the third one was transgender...or at the very least, a guy playing a trick...but in an attempt to be considerate and respectful, my money is on transgender. But I couldn't dwell on it for too long. I walked them to their table, and they all held hands along the way.

Later on, I heard their waitress talking in the kitchen about her transgender regulars. She called them her "Lady Gaga-ers," which I hope really means they like Lady Gaga, and is not intended to offend.

So all three of them must be transgender, I guess? Huh...I was 2/3 fooled. They were very friendly girls. I think it just threw me off because I've never seen it in person, you know? Of course I know about it. But these girls were the first I've met.

...Good story.

Babies, Babies, Babies

2011-06-26T07:03:00.000-07:00

So...

This is one of those word-mix-up situations I was talking about in another post. Check out this "Baby Eating Watermelon." That's Baby Eating Watermelon, not a Baby-Eating Watermelon. Though that is up for debate.

And then there's this one. I thought it was cute at first. Okay so it's still cute. They're twins...and they just talk back and forth to each other as if it's a real conversation. But the each just keep saying "Dadadadadadada" over and over." It's really interesting to watch. What's not so interesting to watch? There are lots of other videos of these twins online...including a Good Morning America interview...where it was revealed that these two have had this secret language for a "couple of months" according to their mother. I'm glad I don't live in that house. In every video, the interview included, "Dadadadadada" is all these two say. And they say it quite a bit...in the same high pitched yelling voice. So watch it once. Don't let me steer you away, because I did think it was adorable at one point! Just don't get too carried away.

This one is self explanatory. I guess not, now that I see the still youtube decided to have. This is not a breastfeeding video. It is a compiled video of babies laughing. And it's hysterical. I don't understand the boobs...and why it's okay for them to be on youtube. And I know breastfeeding is natural but it does not seem very empowering...let alone something I'd be comfortable sharing. Gag. Just close your eyes at that part...I did.

And Finally! Babies Eating Lemons! Their faces say it all. Do I cry? Do I laugh? Do I eat more? Do I even like this? They wince, but they don't know if it's funny, scary, good or bad. Not one cries! It's unbelievable and so cute!

I hope you enjoyed these Babies Making Videos...That's babies making videos, not baby-making videos. That would be wrong.

...Good story.

My Friend is a Psychic (And other stories)

2011-06-25T11:56:00.000-07:00

Hmm...where to start?

So...
We are still in the process of getting our dog. My mom is very motivated now because she wants to make a video and send it to Good Morning America. They do these "Weekend in 3 Words" segments. And she wants one of her that says "My First Puppy." At her age, it would be cute...it would be even cuter at 75.
...Good story.

So...
I worked 15 hours in the past 2 days. I'm tired. But I can't really complain too much as long as I'm making some money. Today I get a day off. TGISaturday! And last week I got $32 in tips. That's exciting. Apparently as hostesses/hosts we get tips per waitresses/waiters discretion. They put it in an envelope with our names on it. Good. Because I don't think touching mustardy, ranch dressingy dishes, used napkins and silverware, and getting everything from beer to mayonaise on my new black clothes would be the same for just a meager hourly wage. The downside...having so many one dollar bills is a little unsettling...like I'm a cheap stripper/prostitute...maybe some day I can work up to politican-worthy. But then my option to teach would likely be off the table...So this teacher didn't sleep with a politician, but she did have a quotation in this video that would influence me not to teach and strip/prostitute on my off time from teaching. I likely wouldn't be an NFL cheerleader at the same time, either. (Let it be known that I do not plan on becoming a stripper/prostitute or NFL teacher EVER. But really who does? Sometimes opportunities find you...haha just kidding.
...Good story.

So...
The above story wasn't finished. It just took a direction I didn't expect. When I got all those ones I realized that none of them are marked with "Where's George?" So I went on the website and entered them all. I considered getting a stamp of my own, and becoming a Georger. I looked up online whether it was legal...which it is. As long as the stamps go in proper places on the bills so the security details are not tampered with. But doing it in bulk triggers suspicion. For instance, depositing a bunch of stamped bills to a bank would not be wise. And spending a bunch on one purchase anywhere as well wouldn't be smart. This isn't stopping me from wanting to get the stamp. I think I'd want it in purple or turquoise.
...Good story.

So...
Do you know any 1 year olds? From about 14-16 months I love 1 year olds. They don't quite know how to talk yet. But I can almost guarantee they can say "Hi." And that's all they do. Because instinctively, when a 1 year old says it, I say it back...and then they just keep going because they know they're cute. So then you think you're equally cute to them and you say it over and over and over. There's an 18 month old in my mom's daycare who is quite the talker these days. Here are some of my favorite things she says:
Mount when she means Time Out
GakeOoo when she means Thank You
Mannen when she means Madeline
Tacie when she means Tracie
Eena when she means Catalina
Ahhnaahhh when she means Anna. This one is cute because the girls' name has an A sound like in Dad, but she makes hers sound like she's opening her mouth for the doctor.
She says "Like" and shakes her head if she doesn't like something...there are definitely more...but I'll keep this short...(that's a good one).
...Good story.

Okay,
Lastly. My friend Lindsay is a psychic. And her crystal ball is The Current. With it she can predict the song of the Summer. It's crazy. She posted a blog about the top songs list on The Current and numbers 1 and 2 were "The Dog Days are Over" by Florence and the Machine, and in second was Mumford and Son's "Little Lion Man." I had barely heard of these songs when I read that blog post back in January...yet they were at the top. Well "The Current" might as well be called "The Future." Because I feel like I hear Dog Days every time I turn on the radio this Summer. And Little Lion Man is also fairly popular Marchish. Can't wait to see what next Summer brings...I should know within the next few months...so Lindsay, keep me posted. Or I could start listening to The Current.
...Good story.

I think that's about it. I'm still not finished with my dad's blanket. But I did buy myself some yarn to make my own afghan...I just need to find the time.

Random Kitchen Experiment

2011-06-21T11:08:00.000-07:00

#1 CHICKEN & APPLES

So...
Sometimes I watch interesting shows on the Food Network. To tell you the truth, most of the Food Network programs are really bland. They all make cliched favorite meals that you could find in a cookbook anyway, and really don't put any sort of spin on it. So it's dumb to watch them unless you plan on cooking while you watch, but who does that? So you have to look up the recipe anyway.
But there are some shows like Chopped, Dinner Impossible, Next Food Network Star, that inspire the creative side in me. Sometimes chefs are challenged to make savory meals out of sweet things, or incorporate bizarre ingredients in their dishes. Most importantly, they have to make food that looks and tastes good. I like shows like this because I can relate. Okay, so I'm not a trained chef and I wouldn't have any idea what to do with a picnic basket filled with octopus, brussel sprouts, and cotton candy. But I can relate on my own amateur level. Like chicken? What do I do with chicken? I should give myself more credit than that...

Anyway, to the point. My mom makes this delicious hot dish with pork, stuffing, cream of mushroom soup, and apples. And I kind of wanted to make something along those lines--but quicker--for lunch today. So I looked in the fridge and found leftover chicken tenders breaded with oatmeal (that was sort of an experiment, but in reality a recipe I found online). Then I got an apple out. I think a frying pan is my favorite of all the pots and pans...even of dishes. You can cook practically anything in it, and I'd feel really cool eating out of it. Not that I ever have.

I cut the apple into chunks and cooked them in the pan for awhile, then I cut the chicken and added it to the apples and mixed it up. I put cinnamon on it. Then I remembered the Nutrigrain bars we bought at Sam's club last weekend. So I took out an apple one and laid it in the frying pan to toast it like grilled cheese. Then I felt like I should use more spices or something...so I hunted through our cupboard, and found McCormick Barbecue seasoning. As if that made sense, right? Well it did. So I shook some of that on the chicken and apples. When the Nutrigrain bar was toasty looking, I put it on a plate with the chicken and apples over it. I felt accomplished. I wish I'd have taken a picture.

Anyway, it wasn't the best thing in the world. So I'm not promoting it as a recipe or anything. I liked it enough, and I do feel that it has potential. I could change a thing here or there to make it really work. The chicken was kind of dry, probably because it was already cooked, and then recooked. The apples weren't very sweet. I think that was why the Nutrigrain bar worked with it. Haha. I don't know.

On a related note, warm Nutrigrain bars are very good. Even without chicken and apples, I might toast one up sometime...I wonder if it would work in an actual toaster?

...Good story.

If I Title this What I Want to Title it, the Story Would be Given Away

2011-06-12T21:15:00.000-07:00

So...

My first night of work was yesterday. I worked tonight as well, I don't hate it. The people are really friendly...there's always something to do (though maybe not everyone's ideal tasks), and I'm never just standing around doing nothing. Okay, so the last one happens occasionally, but when it does it just means I should check the bathrooms, fold kid's menus, wrap silverware, or count the open menus.

The best story I have of my first two days (11 hours so far) involves bussing tables. Applebee's has these new "sizzlers" which are those meals (often fajitas) that come on a sizzling, smoking platter via a very dramatic (sometimes traumatic) entrance to the dining room. Well those platters are made of metal, if you didn't already know that. I was bussing a table that had a platter, but someone didn't eat everything off it. So I had to scrape it into the trash. I thought I could just shake it right off. Then vwhoop (I like that word, though I may have made it up just now), the patter was SUCKED out of my hand! Turns out the trash can lid is very magnetic so that silverware doesn't get thrown out. I was so shocked. It wasn't like I dropped the platter, or it was slipping through my grasp. I was holding it normally, and it was yanked away by an invisible magnetic forcefield. What's worse was that I was barely strong enough to pry it off with TWO hands. I was trying so hard grunting in exaggerated effort. No joke. But it popped off, and another host laughed at me like he was just waiting for it to happen.

I've been warned.

...Good story.

Keep on Movin

2011-06-11T06:28:00.000-07:00

Brady bunch reference from last post.

Thank You Dairy Queen for Indirectly Getting Me a Job at Applebee's

2011-06-10T18:39:00.000-07:00

Here's me in my getup...posing like a Brady?
"keep on keep on keep on keep on dancin' all through the night?"

So...
It was Monday night. I was still down about not finding a job for the summer...and even more bummed that I now had to start looking into the fast food industry...but it hit me. Dairy Queen would be the perfect summer job, and I wouldn't have to be concerned about the whole "going back to college" thing being a reason not to hire me. So on Tuesday I went to all 3 dairy queens nearby (thought there were 4, but one is closed for the season?) and applied. DQ's are individually owned so you can't apply online...which is a good thing...helps you feel like hitting submit is actually effective. All three places told me they were accepting applications but did just hire. All three applications, interestingly enough, were completely different. I guess that's beside the point. I was very upset that I didn't reach this revelation three weeks ago when they were hiring. So in anger, I stopped at Applebee's on Tuesday night around 8:00 to pick up an application. Yeah, that's probably a really inconvenient time but I needed to cool down and deflect my rage (wow I'm making this much more dramatic than it really was) with a pen and that application. So I took it home, filled it out, and brought in the next day. When I got home from turning it in...literally within 2 minutes. My mom looked at me and said my phone was vibrating on the table. In disbelief I checked it. One missed call. So I called them back. It was Applebee's and they wanted me to interview. She had also left a voicemail...which means she had to listen to my voicemail greeting (which is moderately embarrassing, and motivation for me to answer all my calls...but you can try it sometime if you call me between midnight and 7am). I like it though, because when I listen to my messages I get to hear people's reactions. For instance, if they are laughing as they try to get through what they need to say, it makes my day a little brighter. But still, I'll be changing it soon-ish. If I think about it. Anyway, long story short...I'm now employed. And I have DQ to thank indirectly...I'll celebrate soon...I'm thinking a crunch cone.
...Good story.

I Feel Like a Kid Again

2011-06-08T20:48:00.000-07:00

So...
You know how as a kid you had infinite dreams? Plans to be everything even the best multitasker couldn't hope to accomplish in one lifetime? I always wanted to tell stories. That's the truth. I signed up for a day camp the summer after first grade. It was called "Awesome Authors" and designed for creative young minds to write stories. Due to low enrollment (I was the only one who signed up) the camp didn't happen. I cried (there are a lot of stories from my childhood that would end with those two words). Would I be a different writer today because of that camp? I don't want to question "what-if..."
Anyway...living in a daycare, I've noticed a lot of quirks about children. I guess they're things anyone could notice, and not mindblowing or anything. But, little kids don't have a concept of reality. For instance one child may want to be a Doctor Princess Plumber (yes plumber) Singer Mommy. Another may want to fight fires and cook (if only my sims could do both...), or maybe a mechanic, pilot, navy seal, president. The point is, everything is possible! Somewhere along the way we lose that...even when we're told we can do anything. I'll never be president, doctor, princess (though I could see a future with Harry :D), lawyer, let alone all these at once.
So I bet you're wondering why I feel like a kid again. The truth is, the situations are barely comparable. I'm not talking careers here...right now I'm talking jobs--or rather my lack of employment.
I've probably filled out 50 applications since January. That isn't an exaggeration. Those 50 applications got me one immediate "we really only hire people who can start in April and you're not home until May" rejection letter. Two got me interviews. One resulted in "Sorry, we're looking for someone who isn't leaving in August." And the other never called me back, so I called them...and held...and held...and held...and held...and gave up (after tuning my radio to 107.9 to discover that the station matched up with their hold music...that was entertaining)...and called back, and held...and held...and held...and was told someone else was 'more qualified' to greet people at the door and check that they're members.
But with every job I apply for, I feel like it's THE PERFECT JOB for me!
I'd love PetCo or PetSmart...what's not to love about animals?
Of course I want to work at JoAnn Fabrics, I love art!
Blockbuster? Duh, I like movies.
Groundskeeper at the Science Museum? For sure! It pays 10 bucks an hour AND I'll be in the sun all day? Hello suntan!
I can nanny, perfect hours to work around my social life.
Or volunteer at Children's Hospital (doesn't pay, but would be a great opportunity).
Then there was Dairy Queen...but I only thought of it yesterday. I went to the 3 closest DQ's to my house to apply. Wouldn't it be great? It's the perfect job when you're only going to be here for the summer...that is DQ's season! I won't be needed after that, so there's no guilt on my end, and they don't have to hesitate because of that factor. The problem? I was about 3 weeks behind with this realization...all the dairy queens were "accepting applications" but had just hired. I was so mad.
I'm running out of options, and getting nervous.
I did sign up to build a house for habitat for humanity in August. I'm really excited for that, actually.
As for the job search...I'm praying for some change in the situation...maybe that's not something to pray for...but really, any longer and I'm going to need a serious break from my mom...and she of me. This is no longer a good story...the point is I WANT TO DO EVERYTHING!!!!!!! I just need some work experience and some money. It's really getting old.
...Good story.

Escaped Wolf

2011-06-08T18:11:00.000-07:00

So...

While outside with my mom and a daycare kid at the end of the day, there was a big creature across the street roaming around a yard it didn't belong to. It was hairy with a big tail. It was actually a very pretty mammal, if I do say so myself.

My mom gasped and said "Is that the escaped wolf?" To which I moderately freaked out. I hadn't heard anything about an escaped wolf, let alone the escaped wolf. We were headed inside to protect our own lives and the 3 year old child's. Then I see a shiny reflection coming from the "wolf's" neck...a tag.

this isn't the dog, just a picture I googled

"Mom, that's a dog." Though it did look remarkably like a wolf. It may have been a husky, or a malamute, or a german shepherd, some sort of mix, or some other type of dog. It was gray, black, and white. Not very brown, so I'm not thinking it was a german shepherd. It was huge, though. HUGE. A man came out of his house to see it in his yard, and he was just as wary to approach it...but somehow the dog needs to get home. He reached his hand out to see the tag, and the dog walked away...so it seemed fairly harmless...then it walked down our alley and we didn't see it again.

...Good story.

But apparently a wolf escaped the zoo recently, they found it and put it down. Which brings up 2 points:

-We don't live near the zoo, so for the wolf to get all the way to our neighborhood unnoticed and uncaptured, is unrealistic at best.

-If the wolf was put down, how does that explain that that dog is the wolf...or is it a zombie?

Nothing is Happening! I don't have any good stories

2011-06-01T11:04:00.000-07:00

Except this one...sort of.
So...
I love babies. Today, one of the daycare kids blew me a kiss and I pretended to catch it in my hand, and put it in my bowl of cereal. She laughed and kept blowing more, eventually coming up to my bowl of cereal and shoving her face at it directing more kisses (and drool) into it. She's adorable.
...Good story.

We're Getting a Zoey

2011-05-19T14:39:00.000-07:00

So...
I'm super excited. For years we begged my parents for a dog. And for years we didn't get one. We've had birds, fish, birds and fish (I double-pluralized that) as pets...but dogs just sound like more fun. Within the past few years it had been decided that a dog would replace us once we're all in college. So last Summer they said we were getting a dog so I could help train it before I left. Then throughout the school year they said they were getting a dog. They said when my Dad started his new job. They said when the snow melted. Now I'm back for the summer and I'm glad the time hasn't come yet. We still have some work to do. My mom is moving all her plants out of the garden behind our shed. We're building a fenced in kennel/runner for a dog to be perfectly at home in behind our shed. I would want to live there if I were a dog. The issue is the daycare, and the fact that my parents don't want the dog living in the house. My dad is old-fashioned and believes in dogs sleeping outside in houses just their size (I just thought of the show Clifford :D). It can come inside, but it's home is in the yard. It's not going to be a tiny dog so it won't freeze. We're not neglecting it either. In fact, I'd say it will be spoiled. My neighbor's dog just whines on their deck 24/7. It never gets taken inside, nor does it have a doghouse. So our dog will be more at home.
Another reason I know the dog is happening is the extensive list of dog names we've looked through/developed. It is hard to be creative. I had a cartoon/disney theme earlier...Simba, Nahla, Toto, etc. My mom nixed all those.
She's come up with a lot of names I don't like. I think that I just want to be the one to name it. I was the same way with the birds we've gotten. It's a contest to come up with the name everyone can like. (Sometimes I pretend I'm not competitive by nature).
We're looking to get a lab. I'm hoping for chocolate. My mom wants a yellow lab, or a red lab...but reds are rare. It's really my mom's dog, so I suppose it's up to her in the end. We'll see...but at least we know it's happening for real. I know they've convinced me of this before. But we've never gotten down to the name!
Here's our list narrowed down now. It's only girl and unisex names at this point, we're pretty sure we want a girl.
Zoey, Belle, Ruby, Annie, Cocoa, Koki (Not sure why Koki is on this list. But my mom wouldn't let me take it off.)
I think we've decided on Zoey or Cocoa--though the others are just as great. When we get the dog and see its personality, I think it will help us make the right choice. It's good to have options.
...Good story

Word Mixups

2011-05-17T07:45:00.000-07:00

So...
The other day I was thinking. And I haven't thought since...
But really. I was thinking about compound words. Many of them can be interpreted multiple ways, even though there is only one that is accepted. For some reason the only one I can think of right now is
fairy-godmother. As it is accepted, it means a godmother that is a fairy. But what if I was the mother of fairy gods? Or the godmother of a fairy?
...Good story.

Freshman Year? Check

2011-05-11T10:03:00.000-07:00

So...

This is our mascot. Isn't he adorable?

It's a bittersweet end to my first year of college. I would be lying if I said that I adjusted to college immediately, and don't ever want to go home. I'd be lying if I called this home. I don't like when people ask me how I like college, and if my chosen school is a fit, or what my favorite part is; I struggle for answers. College is about convenience for me. It is the only way I see to get to where I want to be. Why I want to be where I'm struggling in a sometimes demeaning profession, and nearly a 100 grand in debt, I don't know. And though I have doubts about how I'm going to make things work, I do know that I'm going to. I've committed myself to coming back next year because it makes the most sense socially. That might sound foolish. But I don't make friends easily, and transferring to a new school where I'm a year behind everyone's friendships is not a risk I'm going to take at the expense of the significant friendships I made this year. Thriving in my education is going to be harder if I feel I don't belong. At the cost of a private school, even with the significant financial aid I'm more than grateful for, it seems like a gamble. And I really have a hard time justifying it financially, but personally I know it makes sense.
The hardest thing about the end of the year is seeing people transfer. The best friend I made has known since the end of last semester that she wasn't coming back next fall. I've had some time to get used to it, and I'm almost accepting that she needs to do what's right for her. In addition, one of my roommates for next year is transferring, and she's another person in this group of 5 or 6 of us who've gotten close this year. It's really weird to see, and uncomfortable to hear about how these people hate it here or regret choosing this as their school in the first place. Because what does that say about my experience, when I look at them seeming to have a blast all the time in comparison to me, and then they say that?
I'm counting on sophomore year being better. I consider it starting over again, but with at least some background, and some connections this time. This year wasn't the worst thing ever, but there's always room for improvement, right? A year from now, if I hated it here, I honestly don't know what I'd do. I'd be in a position where it just seems too late to transfer anywhere else, too much of a hassle, you know? Perhaps, not. We'll wade those waters when the flood rises. I think I just combined two cliches (Good lord willing and the creek don't rise, & cross that river when we get to it). I feel strangely clever.
I can't regret this year at all. Being away from home has only made me realize how important my family is to me. I am so much more grateful for those relationships that I can always come back to, and the great friends I've had all along, and know that being gone for so long hasn't really changed anything. So much has changed for me personally, and for my family at home. It's been a very trying year in many ways, but hey...I'm still alive, and we've gotten through it. Maybe the situation isn't ideal, and I am fairly certain that I don't want to spend the rest of my life in Iowa. But I can say that I did it. I honestly do get more fulfillment out of it than that. It's weird to think how much a person can evolve mentally and physically in a year...and probably shallow to point it out within oneself, but I'm truly proud of how I've changed. I'm not saying that these changes couldn't have happened if I stayed at home, or went to a different school. But I can't deny that they happened in this environment, and in these circumstances. So it wouldn't be right to disregard that or be regretful of my decisions to study, live, and stay here.

April 2010

April 2011

That is all...
...Good story.

I suppose I can be more upfront about the changes. It's awkward, because I don't really know how to talk about the really personal things. I know I've brought it up before in a past post here or there, but this year I focused a lot more on myself and my own physical needs than I ever have my whole life. There are multiple factors--be they emotional, genetic, or subconscious--that have played into my weight my whole life. It isn't something I've ever been comfortable talking about with a lot of people because empathy is something I often doubt when it comes from others, as it isn't part of my nature. But I don't really think it's a subject I should tiptoe around, or pretend doesn't exist. I can't pretend like there's nothing to be proud of, but I'm hesitant to sound even remotely boastful or cocky. It's a slippery slope--but maybe I over think things too much. When I think of changes I've gone through in the past year, even the past 9 months, the biggest one, the one I'm most proud of is that I've lost weight. I would have been happy just not gaining the freshman 15, and I hate people on TV who boast about any new fad that helped them lose 24, 57 or 80 pounds. The last thing I want to do is sound like a broken record. But it's not something I can just overlook and pretend never happened, because it's a big part of who I am. Could I have done it in other circumstances? Maybe. But I can't deny that it never happened until I was put in these circumstances, and make my freshman year meaningless. College definitely has it's pros in comparison to what was available up to this point. We have a fitness center "covered under tuition." (They say it's free, but let's be honest.) Not to mention, dining hall food can get a bad rep. At home grocery shopping occurs once a week...vegetables and fresh foods can go bad, or run out. Here, that never happens. There's more room to store a wider variety of vegetables and fruits. It's not all bad. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm probably ingesting a plethora of genetically modified crap and God only knows what other synthetic chemicals. But I'll take what I can get, it seems to be working......(I know one of you knows what I know you're thinking about this).

Coloring

2011-05-04T11:18:00.000-07:00

So...
I was coloring at work yesterday. I only have so many crayons...so the variety of colors was minimal. It was a veggie-tales coloring book. A girl sitting next to me at work observed that the asparagus was very bright green, and she'd never seen one like that. So then I just said it was blanched. Blanched vegetables maintain very rich colors, right? I don't actually know much about vegetables. But I've watched Rachel Ray before.
...Good story.

So Another Terrorist has been Killed (Rant)

2011-05-02T11:18:00.000-07:00

This is not a good story, but rather something I've been thinking about.

So it's going to be a rant. And I warn you that I'm really not as informed about things that I should be.

Osama Bin Laden is dead, after nearly a decade of searching, he was found and killed by US armed forces. But I'm sure you've already heard about it.

This first part may sound stupid...like one of those conspiracies about the moon--"how did they film the first steps? where was the camera man?"

I can't comprehend how we've been searching for him for all these years, then we think we find him, kill him, and have to run the DNA to know for sure. DNA tests require a sample to run it against. How could we not find him, but still managed to get a sample of his DNA to run the corpse's against?

Secondly, why must we keep his body in our possession? He's dead. I don't care who it is, an autopsy is not going to solve anything, and taking samples of his brain to try and get in his head is just unethical. Our parents have always told us to be the bigger person. So as much as you try to justify it by saying Osama was an unethical bastard and deserves everything that's coming to him, the more I see the hypocrisy that is America. I thought "an eye for an eye" was outdated. I can't take the law into my own hands, so why is murder okay? There are too many gray areas in issues like this. While I don't mourn his death, I don't see it as something to celebrate either. His death doesn't bring back the many people who died in the 9/11 attacks. His death doesn't end terrorism. His death doesn't make me feel safer.

Looking at American history, the times when tragedy has struck are the times our nation has reportedly been "the most united." It's human nature, and while there are atrocious things that have occurred that are in opposition to human nature, it's not unlikely that his murder won't bring Al-Qaeda together. If ever there is an American leader who dies, we can and have pulled ourselves together. We haven't crumbled apart. I know that America is much older and experienced than Al-Qaeda. Not to mention, we're a country, I just don't see how anyone could overlook the possible outcomes and feel that we've won something.

Saddam Hussein was executed, in 2006. We're still not out of Iraq.

Consider the past 10 years. Bin Laden has been in hiding. How effective of a leader could he have been with the constant stress and threat on his life? There would have to have been others taking on some of the slack. Perhaps leaders in training.

How old was this guy anyway? Had we not tracked him down, I'm sure the stress and circumstances have aged him significantly. He likely didn't have much longer to live. Weren't there thoughts that he may have died naturally not too long ago? It could have happened. The fact that the United States killed him just makes us more of a target. This is just too overly hyped, and too publicized. I can't believe I'm wishing news stations to go back to recapping the royal wedding or something equally as frivolous.

I don't really have a way to wrap up all my thoughts into an acceptable conclusion. Instead, I'll direct you to this blog post: 5 Reasons I think Bin Laden's Death is Meaningless.

It provides perspective of a Thai student studying in America over the past 4 years. In addition she's taken a class about terrorism. So her rant is much more educated and a little separated from my perspective as a middle class American.

Oh and BTW, I decided to revamp the design of this blog. It was too cutesy before. I don't know why, but for some reason it was just too pink for me to mention terrorists. So I changed it. But instead of giving it a boost of testosterone, I just made it flowery. I'm very into floral lately. Maybe it's spring. Maybe it's my window garden. Maybe it's an upcoming (date to be determined) garden party...ahem. But I think this new layout and design is a lot more cheerful, quirky, and in short...me.

Yeah, I did just talk about flowers at the end of a post about a terrorist. What are you going to do about it?

Pseudo-Mother's Day

2011-04-28T23:09:00.000-07:00

So...

She cried. And the following situation may have been manipulated for dramatic effect.
"What kind of mother have I been to deserve this?" she said through tears.
"Oh, you think it's ugly?"
"It's beautiful. How long did this take you?"
We then subsequently posed for a picture with it. I'd post it, but it's on my Mom's camera and she is taking it home...with her knowledge of technology, it won't make its way to a computer until I'm home to do it.
She liked it. It was a very functional gift, too. I made it small pieces at a time, so it was very portable to work on. It was in no way an inconvenience...except economically. But my mom did say she'd fund my dad's father's day afghan. In the end it worked out. I got to see her reaction, it was a surprise of its own anyway. And I think the tears would have been sadder if she'd gotten it on Mother's day and was just sitting there alone. It all worked out in the end. She likes it, I'm happy with it. It was a good mother's day.
...Good story

The Nosey Gene

2011-04-28T06:51:00.000-07:00

So...
The surprise has been spoiled. The beans have been spilled. The cat is out of the bag. I coughed it up. It came straight from the horse's mouth.
I'm all out of idioms to use off the top of my head.
I conveniently hid my mom's afghan in my dorm room closet, thinking there would be no reason for her to open it. Yesterday we went walking around and she didn't want to take her purse, so she went to put it in the closet. I grabbed it from her awkwardly to do it myself. I'm sorry, but I'm not good with lying, or being discrete. I've told this story a few times already and people are like "she probably wouldn't even have seen it." At the time I wasn't thinking that it was hidden enough, just that it was in there. I didn't want her to see it.

Immediately, my mom became suspicious. Trust me, my mom has no reason to be suspicious of anything hiding in my closet other than that gift. My dad--who knows I have a present for her, but doesn't know what it is and maybe didn't know it was in there--just laughed and said "you see how clean she got her room? she probably had to throw everything in there, and it's a piled mess." Good answer Dad, thank you!

Then when we got to the hallway, a girl from my floor was at her door. I introduced her to my parents and my mom asked her what I was really like. What an awkward question. Why are my parents so sarcastic? She responded, telling my mom that I was the life of the floor. Why are my friends so sarcastic?

So my mom had to ask me again what was in my closet...alluding to alcohol or drugs. After all these years and my 100% honesty with my mom, why is this a thought in her mind? I'd thought the subject was dropped. Until 2 hours later she brought it up out of nowhere again. My dad wasn't around, and I hadn't told him exactly what was in my closet. Had these been factors, I probably would have been successful at resisting to spill. Instead...

"Mom, it's your mother's day present. It was supposed to be a surprise. Are you happy now?"
To which she responded, "You didn't have to tell me." and "Don't tell your dad I know." Because I told her of the elaborate scheme we developed to get it to her ON Mother's day, no sooner.
At this point in the story people tell me I could come have come up with some great lies. And I suppose I could have. I've actually thought about lies I could have told, but none came to me in that instant. I could have said I had a dress in there for the band concert and I didn't want he to see it yet. Anyway...

I guess this works out. I wrapped the present last night, and today I'll give it to her. I get to see her reaction, this way at least. But it's not mother's day yet, and I wanted her to have it for that day specifically so she could at least celebrate alone.

Oh, my mom also mentioned finding a card or something that said "Mother's Day Roses" in my brother's car when he was home. So she's expecting some flowers from him too. What's really sad, is that in the same situation, I'd probably be just like my mom. Being nosey must be genetic. Maybe now she'll think twice before prying into my personal space.

But probably not.

...Good story.

25 Years Ago

2011-04-27T15:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, be warned. This post is bringing out my mushy, gushy, shallowly-deep material.
So...
25 years ago today I wasn't even a thought in my parents' minds, nor was my brother, nor even my sister. They had just gotten married yesterday, and were on their way to California for their honeymoon. They stopped in Des Moines for the night (wow. this is getting a little "Mary-and-Josephy").
While they were there the time came for them to open their cards. I guess they brought them along to use the monetary gifts as spending money for California. They were surprised to find that they had enough to fly to California from Des Moines.
Why am I telling you this story?
Because my parents are coming to visit me today. For their 25th anniversary they're celebrating the same way they started (minus the trip to California)...in Des Moines. Almost poetic.
I didn't go home for Easter specifically because I don't get any time off from classes, and because I'm getting to see my parents today and tomorrow anyway! I'm super excited.
I have a jazz band concert on Thursday, so that's the main reason they're coming. But still, the timing is coincidental. I'm sure 25 years ago they wouldn't have imagined that their youngest child was going to be residing and getting an education in Des Moines. I guess a lot can happen in 25 years, but it's kind of cool how things work out when you think about the scheme of things.
I'm also very excited because my mom is bringing down some left-over Easter dinner for me! My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
...Good story.

It is finished!

2011-04-13T12:43:00.000-07:00

So...
Okay, I know with Holy Week and Easter coming up, the timing of this title is kind of unnecessary.
But I'm talking about my Mother's day present...apparently I have 24 days, 9 hours and 47 minutes until Mother's day...so I'm ahead of schedule.
I can hardly contain my eagerness. I'm a showoff...I'll testify to that, as would others. So I immediately showed my roommate and my neighbor across the hall the finished product. And I am obviously going to attach a picture to this post, too. Despite this cocky/showoffiness, I don't know how to casually respond to people's impressed looks or compliments. Maybe I'm digging too deeply into this, but I seek praise and am shy to respond to it...analyze that if you care to.
Anyway, I have a history of getting mother's day presents that are just okay. My brother and I usually go in on one together...somehow I'll break the news to him that this year is going to be different. I spent around $40 on this gift, that's twice the amount of what our joint gift usually costs, and definitely more than I'd like to...but the outcome is worth it...I probably won't remember the cost in the future.
Mother's day generally goes like this:
2 days before:
Dad-"Guys, you better be doing something special for your mother to show her how much you appreciate her. When you were younger I took care of that, but this is really up to you now."
My sister generally doesn't need to be told this, my dad really just needs to cover his bases with my brother and me.
My brother gets irritated with not-so-subtle reminders, I agree...give us a chance to take care of it without being told. We do appreciate our mom, and we will convey this to her.
1 day before:
My brother asks me to go half with him on a gift. We head to Border's Books or Barnes and Noble for a cookbook.
Mother's day:
My sister has some amazing gift that beats whatever my brother and I invested in. That's what gift receipts are for.
My dad, expecting us to all have come up with subpar results, or the more likely reason that he really appreciates our Mom and wants to honor her himself, gets her a gift card for the nearby flower corporation. I say corporation because it is excessively massive, and has lost its small-town flare when it ventured into deforestation, and businessy pursuits. Also, they didn't hire me so there's some angst there.
This year is going to be different. I've finished the blanket. And there is no gift (even from my sister with her vast history of impossible to beat gifts) that can top mine. Yes, I alone made this a silent competition. But I alone am also winning. This is my first ever year holding this unannounced title.

Here's a picture that shows what the corner and border
look like.

A picture from the middle portion of the blanket.

Here's the thing. Whatever I get for my mom, I have to come up with something equal for Father's day. Which is going to be tough. I won't be starting his blanket until I'm home for the Summer. But that's what makes this tricky. I'm going to be home, and working on a blanket for my dad. My mom is going to question what I'm doing. And I can't very well tell her I'm making a blanket for my dad for Father's day in June without giving away that she'll be getting one too. Fortunately my dad has a birthday in May, after Mother's day. So I can say I'm knitting it for his birthday...which would only give away that she'd be getting one for her birthday in June. Yes, my parents each get a holiday of sorts for themselves in May AND June. This plan of deception should work perfectly!

**Scratch that. I just discovered that Mother's day is May 8th. Meaning, I won't be home. And I won't need to deceive anyone. But I will need to figure out some way to get the present to my mom. My parents are coming down after Easter, but I really want to surprise my mom. Not only will I remember Mother's day without being told. But I'm going to have something for it on my own! Yeah. I'm very proud. And I do realize this is getting ranty and lengthy. But...

The best picture I can get of the full blanket.
I'd venture to say it's 7 x 5 feet.

Anyway, rather than sending the gift wrapped and ready with my parents when they leave me for the rest of the school year, I'm going to FedEx it home. I'm very proud of this. Would I rather be home with my mom for Mother's day? Of course! But this circumstance provides a great opportunity! I just hope my dad doesn't send out a mass email to me and my siblings reminding us to do something for her. I'd like to surprise him as well with my readiness. It's sad to say that I wouldn't be too surprised if he forgot this year. With his new job, he's gone a lot...and disconnected from local happenings, even the evening news a lot of the time. So maybe I won't be getting a reminder from him. The 8th does seem pretty early, if you ask me, so maybe it will be unexpected...unless my mom drops hints to him...which she has every right to. I'll figure this out. I'm sure you feel you really needed to know all this. But maybe you can use this as a reminder for you to do something for your mother this mother's day. If you're anything like me, you usually put this task off until last minute, and are generally not thrilled with your gift choice.
...Good story.
Oh, and I'd like to hear your Mother's day stories, trials, tribulations, triumphs, etc. I spilled everything to you, so how do your families usually handle the holiday?

Secret

2011-04-13T12:22:00.000-07:00

So...
I am terrible with keeping secrets. Especially when it comes to gift-giving, and the gift is really great!
My mother's day gift is really great! And with such a head start on the idea, and a long process of creating it before the day...there's been ample opportunity for me to spill the secret to anyone. And I have, but to third parties that really would never have the opportunity to tell my family. I spilled a hint to my mom around Christmas when the idea formed. I said something along the lines of knowing exactly what I'm getting her for Mother's day, and I was in the middle of a yarn craft craze at the time...but I haven't brought it up since, and as nosy as my mom can be...she hasn't either.
I'm tempted to tell my dad, and I know he wouldn't spill the news. Really, I want to completely surprise my mom...so the fewer the people close to her that know, the better off I'll be. I'm surprised I've lasted this long.
...Good story.

...My priorities.

2011-04-10T23:06:00.000-07:00

So...
This has been a fairly lax semester. Scratch that, it's been way too easy. Which just means that I've made things very difficult for myself in the future.
Currently, everything is coming second to crocheting. Yes. I've become the floor Grandma, which isn't a bad thing. I've discovered--or rather, known all along--that yarn crafts are soothing. The absence of art has been a void in my life. In the past I've always been working on something. Long ago it was stupid trivial crafts, that I'd create for functional purposes. I've made pillows and purses out of denim from old jeans. I made a tank top from an old sweatshirt. I've made pot holders. I decorated a stretchy book cover for my Bible. The list could go on...(dream catchers...). Junior and Senior year of high school I had art. Even in the Summer I had art work to be doing. So knitting, friendship bracelets, and crocheting has filled that void. I don't think I realized it until recently.

Here are the 70 squares in their respective stacks.

I've been making my mom an Afghan for mother's day. I've only been crocheting since Christmas...but I picked it up relatively quickly, and knew what I wanted to do with it. The afghan required me to crochet 70 individual "granny" squares first. Then piece them together. The squares themselves took quite awhile. I finally finished them late last week.
This is how I discovered that this hobby has been filling a void. Similar to my art days, I discovered I reach a point with crocheting. It's a point where I've come so far that I just have to finish. And there is nothing else that matters...I even sacrifice sleeping.
I think it's similar to if I were running a marathon. I don't like to run, so it's not an entirely accurate simile, but if I were 100 yards from finishing a very long run, I think I'd sprint it out just to be done. With this afghan, I'd finished the squares...so I just needed to put them together ASAP!
Part of the reason I rushed is also because of work. I crochet on the job, and people stare at me curiously. I've been asked what I'm making so many times. I really don't care. I don't particularly find personal fulfillment of any kind other than some financial boostage from my job. Other people work on homework, so it's not like I'm being insubordinate. Anyway. My supervisor told me she wants to see the final product. What?! I have until Mother's day. That's after school gets out. Don't put me under any more pressure to push the deadline sooner than necessary. This isn't for you. It's for my mom. That's too much pressure, expecting me to finish before work is even over, which is 3 weeks at least before Mother's day, and two weeks before school is out. That is not happening.
4 days later...looks like it's happening.
I've been up so late working on this. I'm so excited that the end is foreseeable, that I have to arrive there. I'm probably very annoying to live with, as well. I know when I knit I show it off to my mom after each row. As if one row makes it further. I'm probably unreasonably proud of the things I do...some might say cocky.
So every time I reach another landmark in the process I breathe a whispered sigh of "Yes!" to myself, and my roommate turns to look at me "Did you finish?"
The answer is always no, but still I enjoy the progress. It's very fulfilling. It's a very similar feeling that I got when I painted. And I take a very similar approach to it. Many artists are adamant about waiting until it's finished to show others the final product. I think on some level I'm self conscious or uncertain of the final product being up to par, so I "show off" each step as a way of saying "Look how far I am!" Yeah.
And also, it's a stress reliever. I have discovered that I hate riding in cars with other people. I wouldn't have ever realized it. But it actually makes me very nervous. Unless I'm with a family member, or driving myself. I'm very uneasy. If I can't look at the road, where can I look?
Alas, a solution! Crocheting! Or knitting, I suppose. While on the way to a high school for a jazz band performance, I got so much work done! Riding in a car for over 3 hours...relatively stress free because I wasn't focusing on what the driver was doing.
...Good story.
And now I'm obviously still up at 1:00 AM on a school night...this might be a problem.

Another one about squirrels...

2011-03-27T09:16:00.000-07:00

So...
I went to a church today...briefly. I was late to it, because I was misinformed on the service time.
Anyway. As I walked back to campus I called my mom. We were talking for awhile...but then I got distracted. In front of me about 30 feet or so, were three squirrels. Two were "wrestling." And the third was hunched over near a tree eating a nut. I had to interrupt my mom and tell her what I was witnessing...someone had to hear this. I stopped in place so as not to get any closer and force them to scare and scatter. I wanted to get a picture of it or something. As my mom continued talking to me and telling me her own squirrel story (We feed the squirrels in our backyard at home. They get very fat in the winter...VERY fat. I guess she put out a bunch of stale graham crackers broken up the other day and they were gone within minutes. And she saw one squirrel run off with three at a time...somehow) I fumbled through my pocket for my iPod to capture a video on it...gotta love technology. I would have taken a picture with my cell phone as that's quicker, but I was talking on it.
By this time one of the two wrestling squirrels had left the other to wrestle with the one observing/snacking on a nut...leaving (her?) alone. I was so shocked at how promiscuous that squirrel was being and in the presence of his all too former lover?!
"Hello?" My mom says on the other end.
I hadn't been listening or talking for a minute or so...whoops.
I told her I was too mesmerized by what was going on.
There may be something wrong with me.
...Good story.

Oh, and I don't have any tangible evidence of this situation. Sadly the conversation and viewing was barely enough for my multi-tasking tolerance to handle...let alone finding the camera on my iPod...but this video is along the lines of what went down.

The Big Question

2011-03-21T20:41:00.000-07:00

So...
One time I was somewhere with my mom and we were sitting by this other girl I know, and her mom too. My mom asked her how college was going, and I think when the small talk died down she left, and my mom tried to continue the smalltalk with her mom. The question came...
"So has she had any boyfriends or dated any guys at school?"
Why this is a curiosity or a question from one mom to another, beats me. I guess that's exactly what smalltalk is...curious mindless pointless chatter.
My friend's mom, just shook her hand and said "No, I don't have anything to worry about. She keeps busy otherwise." Or something along those lines. The problem? She's gay. She won't be having any boyfriends. Thought it was never really my business to tell my mom her preference, but I felt like that was as good a time as any to clear things up.
So when we were in the car ready to leave, I said, "Mom, [Name] doesn't like guys. She's gay."
She was just like, "Oh. I guess I never would have guessed." Duh, obviously we're clear that you never would have guessed. Anyway. She eventually told my dad and he came to me to discuss that if any of my friends are gay, my parents would like to know because my mom was very embarrassed after the situation. My parents do not have any right to know if my friends are gay unless my friends share it with them, or if said above incident happens. I wouldn't let my mom make that "innocent" mistake twice with the same person, so I thought that I'd better tell her.
It gets more embarrassing.
Last weekend I ran into a girl I know from childhood at the movie rental store (is it really a store if you don't buy it?). Her parents were there, so my mom, dad and I got to talking with them. Then the question came up again...but my mom worded it differently. Probably in her attempt to be more considerate.
"Any girlfriends, boyfriends? Or too preoccupied with school?"
Seriously Mom? Can we just have a different smalltalk question for the future. If I was being asked that I'd immediately respond defensively. She did a good job, or her mom did at least by saying "No, no boyfriends right now." I however was embarrassed. I understand that my mom doesn't want to make the same mistake again, but really it wasn't a mistake the first time and no one was dwelling on it. But this just seems like a way of saying "Hey, what's your sexual preference and do you have a partner?"
I feel like a better question would just be "Are you dating?" Which is still awkward.
I wouldn't want to be asked because, news flash...I have the rest of my life to get on that. We're under enough pressure at our age already--with hormones and other daily stresses--no one wants to feel like they're alone. No one wants to feel like it's expected of us to be in a relationship, or like that's how the success of our social lives are measured. That question would only emphasize the absence of a significant other, or emphasize the importance of the one you'd have and make it even harder to realize if it's flawed or not something you want. I think too many people are in love with the idea of being loved, or the idea of having a boyfriend/girlfriend and losing that label of "single." It's not a stigma or taboo. There's nothing wrong with independence...no matter what your orientation is.
I'm sorry for rambling on and on about this.
...Good story.

...Going on Thirty

2011-03-04T12:25:00.000-08:00

So...
I was in the room with instrument lockers in the Fine Arts Center. As I stood unlocking my padlocked locker, we were discussing the upcoming jazz rehearsal. The brass section (all the trombones and trumpets) was gone with the pep band for the basketball team (GO BULLDOGS!!!). Thus it was just the sax section and rhythms. We were all reasonably terrified. The jazz band director is an amazing saxophonist, and with the saxophones singled out from the rest of the horns, all of our mistakes will be audible.
"I'm thirty" I said in response to a kid's question about how I feel regarding the forthcoming situation.
"What?"
But I meant to say "I'm nervous."
I was simultaneously opening my combination lock, and the last number is 30.
This reminds me of the time I called my fourth grade teacher Grandma. Not Mom, GRANDMA! She was most likely still in her twenties. Goodness...
...Good Story

WTF

2011-02-19T15:39:00.000-08:00

So...
Last year we had a study session at my history teacher's house the night before a big test. His fifth grade son was in the room, and someone said "WTF." Upon his questioning of what that stood for, I quickly responded with a lie--"Where's the fun?!" I feel that lying is not really a good thing to do to little kids, but I think he sensed I was joking. Or I hope so anyway.
But the real story here, sadly isn't my own. And in fact I heard it from someone who heard it from someone else. So if you plan to retell it, you can say you heard it from someone who heard it from someone who heard it from someone else of whom it may or may not actually be their story. Or you can just tell it without the lead in.
Parents and texting is usually an interesting combination. My parents have developed their own acronyms that they use with each other, and accidentally try to use with me on occasion, and I don't know what they're saying. But in this story I heard, the individual's mother was especially entertaining with her lack of knowledge in text lingo--WTF in particular.
The individual texted their mom saying they scored well on a test, and the dialogue went as follows:
"Hey mom I just got an A on my test!"
"WTF good job!"
"WTF?"
"Yeah that's great!"
"Mom, what do you think WTF means?"
"Wow that's fantastic?"
"That's not it."
...Good story.

I'm having too much fun

2011-02-09T07:45:00.000-08:00

Here are the top ten countries that read my blog, and the total views from each. I wish they'd show the other countries too.

United States

1,110

Canada

United Kingdom

Latvia

Russia

China

India

Germany

Denmark

Brazil

Stats Tool on Blogger

2011-02-08T21:35:00.000-08:00

So...
I had another story to tell...but I'll save it for another time.
About two minutes ago a friend's photo--screenshot I'm assuming--popped up at the top. It was an image of blogger and statistics regarding her actual page views and stuff.
So some interesting facts about my blog...

July 2010 was my most viewed month (337)...strangely that was just at the beginning of my blogging experience.
Last month I only had 67 views, today I had 1.
And total I had 1,466 views.
This is the saddest part...when I include my own views of my own blog that total number goes up by about 400. Shows how much I self-edit.

What I found the most interesting was the posts that were the most popular (most viewed). It really shows how much a title impacts whether someone reads it or not.
Coming in at #1 with 73 views is ***Disclaimer***
a post that had nothing to do with much except detailing how self conscious I am about my fiction writing, and that I really don't have much confidence in it, but I'm willing to share it anyway. This post was so different than any of my other ones, and yet it has the most views by a long shot. Consecutively following this post were 2 posts of fiction writing, which didn't make the top 10...don't let me write a review of my own book...or go into self-advertising. Does the word disclaimer remind people of controversy or something? What makes this post stand out so much? I'm intrigued at others' intrigue of the title.
#2 Where I Was the Day Michael Jackson Died
I think this is great. It only had 27 views, so that's a big gap from 73, but still. I think it's great. Not only because I like that story, but because again it shows what a title can do. The day Michael Jackson died is one of those days that we're going to remember...not necessarily on the same scale as 9/11 or the Kennedy Assassination (Which I don't remember, by the way because I wasn't there), but still it is a memorable day, as were the weeks that followed. Whether my story has anything to do with anyone else, that day is still going to be something relatable.
#3 ********
I'm not sure if that's the correct number of asterisks. However, this one had 18 views. Now I know that the next time I write something a little personal to avoid censoring my blog, I should use a more concrete title. Something vague like that must act as a cliffhanger, even without initial context.
#4 I love My Grandma
This one had 17 views. More people should love their grandmas, that's all I'm saying. One more thing...This is another relatable topic, as everyone has a Grandmother. That's really all I'm saying.
#5 ...
Ah, the ellipses don't we all love them? Another vague title for another personal post. This time, pathetically shallow and petty and completely melodramatic. 15 views.
#6 (but tied for #5) A Change I can Count On
I liked this one. It's about dimes. I like dimes. Maybe some of you thought it was about politics? Honestly, though I am not shy to tell people I'm a democrat...I'm more of a poser, as I really don't invest much energy into knowing my platforms. I should get on that.
#7 Reading and Writing the Short Story (Writing Assignment 1)
This one had 11 views. And I wonder how many of those actually went to my other blog when I redirected you.
#8 "This is the most redheads I've ever seen on one bench"
10 views. I think quotes are always good titles. Especially ones with a story behind them (which obviously all these have). Something odd, too. You know. A statement that doesn't really come up in conversation kind of eases things. So I guess I'd expect this one to be higher up on the list, but I digress. This one is a true story about my life. And I was really happy to tell it.
#9 Not so good, Anticlimactic, and Brief Stories
10 views also. Let's face it, the word "brief" is a dead giveaway for why people read this one. It's why we read Chicken Soup for the Soul books, or other anthologies. Either we're too busy but we'd like to read something, or we're too lazy to delve into anything that our attention span cannot cover.
#10 The Reason for Used Books
I'm not really impressed with this post, so I'd like to pretend it didn't make the top 10. It only had 10 views. I wish I could see the rest of them ranked.

I guess if I could pick ones that I think should be toward the top but sadly aren't, they'd include:
(strictly based on title not content)
# NyQuil, Astronomically high doses of Vitamin C, and a Stripper Pole?
The title says it all. Who wouldn't want to read this?

#Significant Insignificants
Um hello, juxtaposition! And insignificants isn't even a word...but I made it one. It functions as a plural noun.

#What is Greek about Greek Life?
Haven't we all asked ourselves this at some point?

#...Urban Wildlife
Urban Cowboy reference, anyone? And plus it's about a raccoon, so it's a must read in my book.

#Crochet-Mania
I just like the title.

#Oh the Places You'll Go!
Because it is word for word Dr. Seuss, and we all love Dr. Seuss. He's very applicable to our lives.

#I am Clearly a Bird Person
Basically these titles just show my personality more than most of my titles.

#Windex Works
We all know the commercials, don't we? It's nice to know that they aren't falsely advertising.

#Insert Relevant Title Here
It's so creative!

#Cheerios in Peach Ice Cream
It's one of those "what the" titles, indicating it's a must read, right?

#Squirrels Need Shelter Too
I'm all for equality, so let's read something that sounds like it has something to do with animal rights, when in fact it really doesn't.

#New Pillow
When you're looking for a story that might provide you with better head and neck support while you catch your Zzzzzzzzz's.

So in short...go ahead and read/reread my popular posts so they become even more popular, or read the recommended ones and make those ones more popular.

With my numbers where they are, I'd assume I have more followers who choose to remain anonymous, or my public ones REALLY like my stories. Or maybe I'm being overconfident about my views...whatever the case.
If you're following me anonymously, that's great...but if you make it public, I can read your blogs too! Just something to think about.
Wow this was long.

...Good story

Tycho Brahe had metal noses

2011-01-27T06:46:00.000-08:00

So...

In astronomy we were learning about the history and all these astronomers. One being Tycho Brahe (pictured left). I don't quite remember what we learned about him...good thing the test is open notes. Actually I remember he was one of the best observes up to and of his time--and that's without a telescope. Kepler was his apprentice, and when Brahe died, he ran off with his abundance of notes taken over 25 years of observation. He liked to say he inherited the notes, but that's not true. But the biggest thing that stands out if I think back on what I learned in class last night? Tycho Brahe had a metal nose. But my professor couldn't stop there. He had to tell us it was due to an accident. No big deal right? Obviously some sort of accident had to take his nose away. But he couldn't stop there either.
The following is not a direct quote because I don't remember it word for word...but it loosely gathers all the details:

"You guys know how college is. Brahe was in college and he in a buddy got in a nerd fight. Because at the time it was only nerds in college. It was the sixteenth century after all. Anyway, swords were involved. But you should have seen the other guy." I'm not quite sure what that means, because the other guy is nameless so obviously not famous, or known for anything. Maybe in the end, he got the girl...if that was what they were even fighting over.

He went on to say that it worked to Brahe's benefit. "If you look at these pictures I've collected," he flashes through probably 12 slides, "You can see that he's a fairly snappy dresser. So he had several noses depending on his various outfits. This one is gold."

...Good story

NyQuil, Astronomically high doses of Vitamin C, and a Stripper Pole?

2011-01-26T07:46:00.000-08:00

So...
I have a deep cough and I don't have anything to treat it. So I went down the hall to ask people if they had cough syrup. I got a few funny looks because some people never heard of cough syrup, they only call it cough medicine. But cough medicine can come in tablet form too, so I had to distinguish that I wanted the syrup. Someone had NyQuil they were willing to share. I went to get a glass from my room so that I didn't have to spread my germs on the little measuring cup thing. When I got to her room, I walked in and there it was. A pole spanning from the floor to the ceiling. I couldn't take my eyes off it. It was a strange accessory for a dorm room and I didn't know what to say.
Immediately she said "That's Abby's, not mine. She uses it to um, dance." Which made sense, I didn't think it was hers, and it is much more characteristic of her roommate to have said item, "Yeah, my dad came to visit once and he acted like he didn't know what it was. When we left he was like 'I totally know what that was for.'"
All I had to say was, "Well it makes your room seem a lot bigger." I guess as long as she's not charging guys admission to her room to see her perform, I really can't say anything else if that's how she chooses to keep fit.
"I never thought of that before, I guess it does."
Long story short, I got my cough syrup and left. Then there was a girl in the hallway...the same girl who never heard of cough syrup...who offered me another remedy.
"Want some Emergen-C?"
"No thanks, I just drank a whole half gallon of orange juice." This was a slight exaggeration, but I did drink a lot. And there's like 100% of the vitamin C you need in a day in orange juice.
"You have no idea. Come on." And she brought me into her room (sans stripper pole because not everyone at Drake has one). She grabbed this packet and showed me the nutrition facts.
WHOA! It has roughly 1,200% of the daily vitamin C intake. And you're supposed to mix it with water and drink it TWICE a day! That's around 2,400%. No thanks.
"It sounds like a lot," sounds like a lot? It is a lot! "But whatever your body doesn't absorb just passes through when you pee."
I opted to pass on that offer. Excess minerals can lead to kidney stones if you don't pass it all. I know, that's a beautiful image/public service announcement. But even if it's unfounded paranoia, I'd rather suffer through this cough than have potential problems from excess vitamins.
...Good story.

What would your couch say?

2011-01-21T08:34:00.000-08:00

So...

My futon is nowhere near this cute.

The futon in my room is disgusting. It's been through four years at one university with roughly five roommates in addition to my brother, a few summers at my house, and one semester with me and my roommate. Knowing what it's been through just in these past few months, I don't think I want to know it's full history.
Mostly, it's collected crumbs. I'm not the cleanest eater, and my roommate isn't really any better. The occasional dropped sandwich inner has found its way upon the couch thanks to gravity. I'm sure I've spilled water on it before. Who knows what's happened when I'm not in the room? You get the picture.
The funniest story is about the ink stain on the beige cover. Keep in mind that the futon cover is new as of the beginning of the school year, so, much younger than the futon itself. Up until winter break the cover was acceptable. Other than the crumbs and whatnot, it was stainless. However, on the day I left to go home for break, in the midst of packing and a really long story that is a good story, but maybe for another time. So I won't tell you how the ink stain got on there, just that it was a really inconvenient time for an ink stain. I poured liquid laundry detergent (a little bit) on the stain and started scrubbing with a wet sponge. With no time to wash it, this was a stupid idea. Then someone commented that I had Shout stain remover. It's really good for set in grease stains and whatnot, and you just leave it on the stain until you get around to washing it. Duh! Why didn't I think of that first? So I sprayed a ton of that on it too. I continued to scrub, which only spread the ink further. I left a damp corner of a beach towel on the stain over break...probably not the wisest idea.
When I got back, I didn't remember the stain. But there it was staring me in the face, and now it was on my beach towel too. Great. There was also a water stain encircling the stain probably from the detergent and shout. The ink stain had turned to a dark green from black...still clearly an ink stain, but it wouldn't do. So I flipped the mattress over. The water stain soaked through to the other side, so I don't even want to know what's growing inside the mattress itself.
The reason for this blog is the most recent accident that happened on it. I was sitting here this morning in the dark while my roommate was asleep. I was drinking Carrie Underwood Vitamin water. I call it that because I really don't know what kind it is. I like to read the labels, and if I think the label is funny...that's the one I get. I think it was a citrus though...it tasted good. Anyway, you see where this is going. The water was sitting right next to me...lid off. When I stood up, it knocked over and spilled all over. So I ran to the bathroom for paper towels to soak it up...but I don't think that's enough. It is finally time for me to wash the futon cover. So as quietly as I could while my roommate was asleep, I unzipped the cover and took it off. Now I remember the dark blue fake suede? swede? underneath. It's scratchy and disgusting...not to mention lint attracting.
I don't think the vitamin water will ever be untrapped from the mattress itself...but I'm doing what I can.
I also heard that you should wash and dry your pillow 3 times a year because of bacteria and feces! Gross. Like my futon cover, I wash my pillow case occasionally. It looks good, so who cares what it's doing to my health.
...Good story.

Let's Be Honest

2011-01-16T11:37:00.000-08:00

So...
I was even more apprehensive coming back to school for the second semester of my Freshman year.
Was I scared for first semester? Yeah. But now that I know what it's like, I seem to have more reasons to be nervous.
I love school. I feel like I belong in a classroom, and that's why I want to be a teacher. I made the dean's list, and have a 3.73 GPA after the first semester thanks to a B in psychology...but I digress.
It's the lifestyle that's hard. Meeting people. Making friends. Doing laundry. Remembering that it's mealtime (and mom isn't making it/setting the table for me). It's a lot of change. And being home for a month made it easy for me to regress into that old routine. That's why coming home...err...back to school is so hard, if break was a little shorter maybe this would be easier. If people were on campus this would be easier. If I didn't live 4 hours away this would be easier.
I contemplated switching schools. Not necessarily closer to home, but something cheaper like a state school might make it more worth it...I'm paying for the education AND the experience. If I'm not going to enjoy the experience why am I paying so much? You know?
But I don't think I'm going to do that. So I have to finish out the year. I have to get out of my dorm room. I need to meet more people in my classes, now that I'm taking more of my major classes. I'm currently around a lot of pharmacy majors with tough schedules/classes and pessimistic views on college...it's probably rubbing off. So if I meet more people in my classes I'm hoping things will turn around. I think you have to like your classes before you like your experience, I'm halfway there then...it's just that the people around me aren't. That's what's stopping me.

I think blogging was a bad idea. I should just write this in a journal or something. I intended this to be lighthearted and funfilled with "good stories" not angsty rants of depression. And I keep saying that, and I keep posting these kinds of "stories."

...Good story.

How I get around cleaning my ears...

2011-01-11T16:11:00.000-08:00

So...
You know the saying "wash behind the ears?"
This story works if you consider this loose translation: "wash your ears."
I don't wash my ears. But now I make sure to wash what goes in them. Well. I did today. But I actually didn't really "make sure," it was completely accidental.
It all started when my earphones for my iPod were in my pocket. My pants were dirty.
You probably see where this is going.
I washed my headphones.
They still work, too.
...Good story.

Crochet-Mania! (Part Deux)

2011-01-09T20:29:00.000-08:00

yes, part deux. Not part dos.
So...
I started this hat around 3:00 and pretty much worked nonstop. I finally finished it around 9:30...I got it to be a beanie around 8:00 but I wanted to add a brim/bill/whatever you want to call it.

I used this youtube video to help me up to this point.

With the video as a guide, I kept messing up the brim per the lady's instruction, so I'd start that part over (not the whole hat!). Then I did it like she did, and it was floppy-ish and went too close to my ears...so I had to make it smaller. So I did. Long story short...my hat is done! I may or may not add some finishing touches. The inspiration for this hat came from one I saw at target It looked like this, but black. So I could add a little strap and some buttons. My dad recommended a pom pom, and I said...NO WAY!

...Good Story

Crochet-Mania!

2011-01-09T17:52:00.000-08:00

So...
I quite knitting to take up crocheting, hoping that it was something less stressful and easier.
It is.
Or at least it almost is.
Or at least it should be.

Trial 2 early on. So far so good.

Trial 2 a little further...still okay

At this point I've started a hat 5 times (and started over 4...you do the math).
It's finally starting to turn out how it should. Knock on wood.

Trial 2 near breaking point. It fits,
but the future is questionable.

Beginning of Trial 5.

I'm already planning on more things I am going to crochet soon. I'm going to a yarn store with my Grandma this week because since a certain person mentioned it...my former Heaven (the yarn aisle of Walmart) doesn't sound like paradise anymore.
But one thing at a time. I'll work on the rest later.

...Good story

Like Daughter Like Mother

2011-01-08T07:52:00.000-08:00

So...
I always lose stuff without losing it. It's always somewhere around the house and I don't think to look for it until I desperately need it. Then I melodramatically storm around groaning, hyperventilating, near tears. It's a really hideous occurrence--and unfortunately not a rare one. Usually I blame someone else. I'll ask my mom where she put it because I probably left it out. She'll say she hasn't seen it and that it's not her fault if she did put it somewhere it doesn't belong after I carelessly left it out. Or I'll say that Dad must have accidentally thrown it away in his rare cleaning/helping without really being helpful sprees. Which isn't far off either. He's been known to throw away important documents neatly 'filed' on our kitchen counter in a stack under the paper towels. Isn't that where every family stores their important things? One time I actually wasn't to blame. I couldn't find my portable CD player...I know, what's that, right? We have iPods now. I blamed my dad because I was sure he used it last. He owned up to it, though. He had borrowed it to listen to the radio while mowing the lawn because a football game was on. When he finished and came back inside he discovered that his headphones were not attached to anything. Sometime while mowing he must have dropped the CD player because he found it in the lawn mowed over. I know that my dad has hearing issues and that it's probably really difficult to listen to the radio over a lawn mower, but wasn't he curious as to what was going on in the game? I don't quite know how one wouldn't realize that.
Occasions like these are rare, though, and I usually have myself and only myself to blame.
Anyway...the point of this story.
First of all (which I guess isn't really first considering the lengthy rant above), when is Christmas going to be over? I am thoroughly holidayed out. This morning, though, we are going to a "Late Early Christmas Eve" party. Long story short we traditionally celebrate christmas eve with my dad's side of the family, but in the past 5 years or so not everyone can come. So we do Early Christmas Eve. This year, Early Christmas Eve was "snowed out" because of a massive storm in MN, so it was postponed for later.
So my mom bought presents awhile ago for my two cousins and my cousin's two daughters. She put them all in a bag and left them somewhere for later. But guess who couldn't remember where she left them? My mom. The party is today and she just looked this morning. At 9:00 she was hysterical. "I guess I have to go shopping. I hate Christmas I want it to be over already. I don't like shopping and I have no money."
Sounds familiar. Our house is also an absolute mess right now as we try to put Christmas away. It's a stressful time. But I tried to tell her that there's no way the presents aren't in our house somewhere. All we have to do is look. But the party is at 11 and she doesn't want to waste time looking and then waste time shopping.
Fortunately after all the commotion, she found them.
For a moment, though, my mother and I switched roles. I was the voice of reason saying "why are you freaking out right now?"
And though she wasn't blaming anyone else, she was the panicked one.
...Good story

I probably shouldn't call my blog "...Good Story" anymore

2011-01-03T06:47:00.000-08:00

So...
It is 2011, now. This year I've resolved to just be who I am. I'm not sure I've always done that. Sometimes I do the things I don't really want to do. Not stupid things, or bad things, just things that I don't want to do. So I'm resolving to only do things that I want to do. That's vague, I know.
I'm also going to try and get out more. I admit I was mildly anti-social first semester...and I spent a lot of time on my futon in front of the tv, my computer, or just listening to my ipod while doing homework. I don't want the only room I live in to be a daunting room for doing homework. So I need to find a new place for that, and maybe I'll see more people, be alone less often, and not be irritated by my living quarters. Maybe I'll be more mentally healthy. I'll also probably be more productive and efficient (and redundant?).
I'm done knitting. This isn't really a resolution so much as a truth. It's not going to take that much work for me to stop knitting for awhile. It's gotten boring over the past few weeks. I got a crochet hook for Christmas, and it's not that hard to do. Well, for some reason the beginner stitch is really hard, and the more intricate stitch is much easier. I attribute this to thin yarn, a tiny hook, and poor eyesight. The holes are too tight and tiny to determine which one I'm supposed to hook. But the more intricate stitch is a lot looser...and fortunately faster too. Unlike knitting, there are more stitches than just knit and purl...a lot more. But a muscle in my right elbow has been aching for the past few days...it's weird that my body needs to get used to such a craft.
This last one is going to be the hardest for me. I'm embarrassed to admit this has become a problem for me...but I'm judgmental. In the past I have openly shown my distaste for certain people...celebrities mostly. Maybe this comes from watching too much TV, especially too much of the wrong TV. But Demi Lovato, Taylor Swift, Justin Bieber, Lady Gaga, certain reality stars, people with funny voices...you name it and I've been annoyed by certain aspects of these figures. Since I've been home for break I've been around my mom a lot. I love her to death, obviously. I miss her a lot when I'm at school, and I feel for/worry about her when I'm gone. But I've noticed things she says when we watch tv or movies or something. It bothers me how she finds people's flaws and points them out. No matter who it is. That person's a stick, gosh. Eat a hamburger. You have no boobs. Wow your voice is annoying. I don't know why I watch that show her eyes freak me out. It's never bothered me before...not when I lived here and was around more. I can't really use the excuse that she's rubbed off on me and let it go. I need to own up to it and change. If those things about her bother me, and I don't realize I'm the same way, I'm a hypocrite. It's one thing to accept that nobody is perfect, it's another to constantly search for other people's imperfections in an attempt to feel better about yourself. Because that NEVER works.

Enjoy this picture of me from Dec 31, 2009

The more you pick other people apart, the deeper pick yourself apart. In whom do we search for flaws? In my case and my mom's, it's probably people we think are better than us, be it better looking, or better off. If we find their flaws while still holding them higher than ourselves...it only instigates the flaws we think we have even more. I'm not sure I can really convey what I'm trying to say very fluidly. But I'm going to try to be less judgmental this year.
I guess the pattern in all these resolutions is to be more mentally healthy. That's probably where physical health should start. Confidence, happiness, independence...and likely some more qualities, need to be better developed in myself. I didn't intend to bring this back to my appearance, but most things in my life have come back to that. Confidence and happiness aren't the destinations. If I'm trying to change myself to reach these, I'm doing things for the wrong reasons...and that's probably what will make me keep failing.
In 2011, I need a new mentality. Maybe that's too broad, and requires too many changes. I don't know. Maybe I won't do it. But if I do...I'm doing it for me.
Wants some nachos with that cheese?
...Good story.

Maybe I'll Build a Bear

2010-12-17T21:15:00.000-08:00

So...
Here's a good story. It's been awhile.
I was at the mall with my mom today. The MOA (mall of america). I can't count the number of times I've been there. I think we Minnesotans may take it for granted. Compared to other malls, it's not that special. It really isn't, there are decent malls with all the same stores (granted no theme park) all over the country. But the MOA has such a status. It's a national attraction! I have now met people that have been there once or twice in their lifetime, or not at all! I can't really fathom that, strange to say.
Anyway. I went looking for something to wear for Christmas Eve. I wanted a sweater dress, because I've always wanted one...I tried a few on, and they were cute...but then my mom found this other dress that isn't a sweater one, but still really cute so I got it. This is kind of a stupid anecdote. But I was proud that I paid for it myself with money I earned teaching tennis to little kids in Des Moines! My mom asked me if she was paying for it. She asked me, it was weird. Because usually she would be paying for it and that's not a question. But the fact that she almost offered, and I actually turned her down...slightly uncharacteristic of me...okay completely uncharacteristic of me...and paid for it myself. I was proud. And I knew it would work out in my favor later on...which brings me to my story.
MOA isn't really our mall of choice. Malls aren't really our destinations of choice. But we needed to go to IKEA and Sears, so that's where we ended up. As we were walking around, my mom found a reason to go into Old Navy, Barnes and Noble, and some other places. Then we walked by Build a Bear Workshop ( I mean, Santa's Workshop...there's a cute sign hanging over the Build a Bear part). I asked her if we could go in because there was NO ONE there. It's late at night, so I guess it's not prime hours for kids to build bears. There is usually a long line. That's why I asked to go in. I mentioned that I have always wanted to build one. It's true, I have. But I've always been too old and it would be weird going in there. There was a guy building a pink bear for his girlfriend, I'd assume.
We looked around for awhile, scoping out how it all works out and what it all costs. Suddenly the possibility of me building a bear was become more likely! We have to run the idea past my Dad, but I think I might be building a bear for my birthday on Sunday :) And that deserves that smiley...
...Good story.

ps, I'm thinking it's going to be a moose.

Home

2010-12-17T21:01:00.000-08:00

So...
I am incredibly happy to be home!
I've come to like Des Moines a lot, but have been feeling guilty that my Mom is home alone.
My dad just went back to school to get his Class A license. I think it's class A...he can drive any vehicle now...semi-trucks included. He graduated in late November...so we are both Class of 2010 graduates, and I want to get us matching shirts...that would be very "cool" haha. Anyway, he just got a job with a local truck company. It's a good job with good pay and good benefits, like vision and dental which we haven't had for awhile.
The past almost two years have been tough in our house...most of it I can't talk about, and all of it I don't really like to, but things are turning around. For me, the issue is really petty--I suppose. There are much worse things that I could be going through, and I am more than grateful that I am not, and feel nothing but sympathy and hope for families worse off. The holidays are always a good time to reflect on that.
With my Dad's new job, he has to complete training or orientation, or something along those lines. It requires 200 hours of driving with a mentor. His mentor is great because he has a family he likes to spend time with, so they are usually gone 4-6 days and then back for 1-2 days at a time.
Knowing my mom is alone a lot makes me very sad. I am so grateful of how supportive my parents are of my goals, my dreams, and for all the help they provide. I know my Mom wouldn't want to hold me back, and though she misses the company, she never puts herself first. But it is truly a blessing that my Winter break lines up with my Dad's orientation. I don't know how much better his job is going to be when he makes his own hours/schedule, but I hope it's good.
As it is right now, we are all going to be here for Christmas, which is all I can really ask for. It's just going to be me and my mom for my birthday, but we have some time tomorrow to have dinner or something--my brother can't make it from South Dakota, but my Dad and sister will be here.
I don't mind the way it is, though. I'm home. I have a month without homework, first semester went swimmingly, I'm in town with most of my best friends, I'm going to start a novel...haha...I'm going to knit a scarf and a hat...it's going to be a great month, whatever the circumstances!
This wasn't really a good story...I just read my Dad's Christmas letter that he sends with all of our cards, and it inspired me to be reflective and emotional...that's how his Christmas letters always are.
...Good story

........

2010-12-14T13:13:00.000-08:00

So...

This isn't something I'd usually talk about, but I was sort of inspired by my friend Lindsay and her blog.

I never cared about my weight.

That's a lie. I think everyone cares about their weight on some level or another.

But I never cared enough. I never really thought it was a setback. I have friends, a family that gets along, decent grades, a few talents, and happiness.

But I also wasn't one of those "there's more of me to love" sort of people. I didn't want to weigh what I weighed, and I for sure didn't want to weigh any more. This might seem contradictory. But you aren't required to bear with me.

Health is the main issue here. Some people might say that and it's not true, but I can honestly say that being healthy is the main reason I would like to lose weight. If I gain some confidence in the process, that's nice too. But as it is, my future is clear. My dad's side of the family is large. My dad is a big guy, and I have two very heavy aunts with correlated health conditions. They both have tried different things to get fit, including Curves and the Lap Band.

I'm going to say right now that surgery in the future is NOT an option. I refuse to pinch my stomach off, and liposuction is for people much heavier than I am (and who can afford it).

So I decided many years ago that I would go the common route and balance a nutritious diet with physical activity. That hasn't worked ever. Had I just taken on a healthy lifestyle around age 12 I wouldn't have had to lose weight, I could have just waited it out until I grew tall enough for that weight to be fine...but that didn't happen. I'm not really disappointed that it didn't.

Anyway, I put it off for a really long time. So many times I said "Next Summer, When school starts, this new year's, Ash Wednesday, This Summer, When school starts, this new year's, Ash Wednesday, This Summer, I'll start then." So many times I put that day off, or I'd start and wouldn't last 3 days. I came up with so many excuses...

Last Summer I said I'd start the day school got out, so I'd be healthier going into college. It didn't happen.

Halfway through the Summer I said I'd start when college started.

Let's just say August went by, and most of September before I even stepped foot in the fitness center covered under tuition.

And the first few weeks were very hard, because I've never really been that active.

And I had to try a few different machines before I realized what works for me.

Now I go swimming and on an elliptical almost every day! I'd say I really got started at the beginning of October. That was when I developed my rhythm. Now that Fall Semester is coming to an end, I look at all the stress I should under. I have had 3 final papers, and two final exams to prepare for. I still am in the middle of one paper, and have to study for one exam. I have not been eating very healthy, but I still go to the gym every day. I think about past years when I dreaded the holidays and had to tell myself I wasn't going to indulge too much, and I wasn't going to gain weight, and that starting in the new year I would resolve to combat this health crisis taking over my life.

But this year, though I still need to lose weight, that weight is off my shoulders--pun intended--twenty pounds to be exact. I weigh what I weighed sophomore year of high school. My clothes are big, and I'm getting muscles.

And I'm doing it in a healthy way--which those size zero models can't say, and they shouldn't even be losing weight...geesh.

I don't resent anyone, or anything for where I was, I guess it is a learning experience and I'd probably be a different person if I haven't been this way for most of my life.

This year I am ready for the holidays.

...Good story

This sounds gross, but it tasted good, but it is not worth doing again.

2010-12-11T11:33:00.000-08:00

So...
The Facebook hiatus did not go as planned.
I logged in.
But that's not the story.

I honestly don't know why I'm telling this story, right now...but I am.

I discovered a panini maker in the cafeteria earlier this week. We have a sandwich line, so you can just bring your sandwich to the grill thing and cook it. Since I love grilled sandwiches, and our grilled cheeses are not very good, I've been longing for something better.

So I had a grilled turkey cheese and tomato earlier this week, and today I went back for another one. I don't like going to the cafeteria alone...it's almost as bad as being that kid in high school who sits alone. Though I never was that kid, and don't exactly know what it would feel like. But I digress.

So the plan was to make a panini and leave with it in a napkin so I didn't have to face the lonely and embarrassing situation.

Problem? On Saturdays they do brunch. For some reason that means the sandwich line is closed. Makes no sense to me. Except that they'd have to pay someone to work it...whatever.
I also like breakfast sandwiches. Eggs, cheese, any kind of meat (turkey, bacon, sausage.) I do realize that my one reader cannot relate to that, as she is a vegetarian. But anyway.

So I proceded to get the most unhealthy breakfast food ever. I'd feel worse about it, but it's Saturday and I did go to the pool yesterday...

Anyway. I got in the line for eggs, sausage, and tater tots. Then I went and got two pieces of bread...obviously you can see where this is going...panini maker!

For some reason--though the sandwich line was closed, along with the grilled cheese and hamburger line--there were tomatoes, onions, lettuce, and pickles in the cooler thing. I don't know what people would be putting them on...but thinking it would make my meal slightly healthier, I took two slices of tomato and two leaves of lettuce for my already disgusting sandwich.

I wasn't going to prepare my sandwich at the counter where everyone could see how disgusting it was going to be...so I took it to a table. The place was crowded, so I found one as secluded as I could find. It wasn't, and I was paranoid that people were watching me anyway. Oh, on my way to the table, I stopped by the pasta bar and took some cheese sauce for my eggs.

I'm sorry you have to continue reading this...but you don't have to.

I sat down at the table and casually piled the lettuce and tomatoes on the wheat bread. Nothing out of the ordinary there, right? Then I took the sausage links and placed them on top, too. Then I scattered tater tots between the sausage. Then with my fork, I mixed the eggs and cheese sauce and shoveled them on top of the mess. It was pretty tall by then, so I couldn't fit all the eggs on. I nonchalantly looked around me to see if anyone was watching...
Then I took my sandwich--if you could call it that--to the panini maker. It wasn't on, so I stood there like an idiot trying to turn it on. It's in a fairly deserted corner, but lots of people get chocolate milk or use the microwave, which is right there. I felt like so many people were staring at me. I placed my sandwich on, and pressed the lid down to cook it. It was taking so long to cook, or even heat up. Then this girl came with a bowl of cheerios, and made me feel a little better about my odd taste. She put chocolate milk in her cheerios and then microwaved it for 30 seconds. It was the strangest thing I'd ever seen, but I'm one to talk.

My sandwich finally was finished. I discretely wrapped it in a bunch of napkins, left with it and ate it in my dorm. It was quite messy, obviously. And I think it would have tasted better without the lettuce, and one less tomato...but it filled me up.

I apologize, for anyone who thinks this is gross.
I hope you enjoy this picture of krispy kreme cheeseburgers.
It obviously could have been much worse.

...Good story

And so begins day two...

2010-12-05T08:42:00.000-08:00

I have made a schedule for the next 12 days. I managed to sum it all up on only 16 post it notes.
Every minute of my time is accounted for, and there is NO room for leeway.
I've already taken personal liberty in posting this blog post, but who cares?
If I follow it, I will have some "scheduled" free time. That might be a little oxymoronic.
But there will be NO facebook. None. Nada. Zilch.
Not until December 16th when I get home. Back to MN.
Iowa is facebook free for right now.
I think that facebook should have an international "recovery week" where they shut facebook down for the whole world for one week. It would be madness. But it would be very interesting and probably go in the history books. And it's not like facebook would lose that much money. It's facebook. Seriously. Someone should tell Mark Zuckerburg or whoever runs facebook these days to do this.
I should probably go back to my homework.
34 hours 44 minutes 40 seconds

A Test of Endurance

2010-12-04T15:16:00.000-08:00

So...
It was a sudden impulse to give up facebook.
Gasp! How drastic?! I know.
Don't worry, I can undo it anytime. All I need to do is login. I didn't delete my facebook or anything.
Last night when I vowed to get some homework accomplished, I ended up on facebook numerous times.
It is too easy to end up on facebook. I am always remembered and don't have to reenter my email and password. It's too convenient.
While on facebook I don't really do anything public. By that I mean, I don't comment on people's statuses too often, or pictures, or make wall posts, or anything of the sort. Instead, I find my way to applications. Lately it's been Tetris, Snake, JetPack Man, Family Feud, and in the past Farkle, Chain Rxn, FarmTown (Not farmville).
Let's leave it at, I got no homework done last night. Before I knew it, it was midnight. I looked at the clock, and after being made aware by a few people that I spend too much time playing games on facebook, I made the hasty decision to give it up for 24 hours.
Today hasn't been hard, I think it's probably because I've resorted to blogger.
But I've had a semi-productive day, and I think I'll have to extend this fast through tomorrow too.
I might have to take it through the next two weeks. Or at least until finals are over. I'll take it a day at a time and see where it takes me.
But I think it will reflect positively on my school work, and sanity. By sanity, I mean that facebook isn't the best place when all your friends are in the penultimate days of their first semesters of college worrying about finals, and all the statuses are countdowns until the last day, last test, or some complaint about college. And it will keep me from clogging other people's newsfeeds with my countdowns until the last day, last test, my complaint about college.
Instead, I will start a count-up. And it will be on blogger, because obviously a count-up of the days I haven't been on facebook is contradictory when posted as a facebook status.
So here it is: 17 hours 16 minutes and 33 seconds

Psyched!!!! (pun intended)

2010-12-04T07:09:00.000-08:00

I am psyched. Both in the sense of being very happy/pumped, as well as in the sense that I'm wiped and full of information of or relating to psychology.
Here is what I'm psyched (happy/pumped about):
First of all, I am done with psych lab. It is the fun part of the class, because lectures are boring. But it is on Friday afternoons, so it's kind of irritating. Being done just means I'm closer to being done with the psych lecture class, and all my classes in general. Then for a month with no homework! Maybe I'll write a novel...
I am also psyched that I have a good story. Because I feel that I have failed to convey the purpose of this blog through the majority of my posts. The story I'm about to tell is actually one of those random tid-bits of a story that I used to just blurt out. I still tell some of these, but they don't stick with me long enough to remember to write them down/type them up on here. I've been neglecting this responsibility.
Anyway.

So...
It was my last day of psych lab. I had to give a group presentation on a research project/paper we had to do. Let's just say that we kept putting it off until later, thinking it was going to be very painful and challenging. I honestly don't like group projects, or research projects for that matter. But group projects suck. I always feel like I do nothing, or everything. In high school I mostly felt like I did everything, unless I was with this one certain person...who I feel a little bad that I took advantage of. She once admitted to me though that she'd pick partners who wouldn't put any effort in so that she could ensure that it would be done right. So maybe I wasn't really taking advantage of her? I don't know, we weren't really partners that much.

But we gave our presentation, and I realize most of this is beside the point. At the end of class, this odd kid. I say odd in the nicest way possible. He wouldn't mind being called odd, I think that's what he is going for. I wouldn't mind him so much if wearing the same tie-dye shirts, patchwork hoodie, and colored jeans, to go with his randomly colored unmanaged dread locks was all that he did. But his style is definitely reflective of his personality, which needs to be noticed at ALL times. He is constantly interrupting the teacher in class, and his presentation in our Lab was very similar to our professor's lecture from earlier in the week...last minute much?

That is also beside the point, in a way. At the end of class he asks the Lab instructor what other classes he teaches. The lab instructor responds "I teach two psych labs. This one and Psych 10...blah blah blah"
Then the kid says "Oh, well if I ever want to take another psych class I'll take that one. So you might see me again."

Then another girl says "I'm a psychology major, so that's required for me. I guess you will see me again."
Along with some other people who are psych majors.

I am not a psych major. And would never consider it. Feeling some overpowering urge to chime in with everybody else in a manner that Cady Heron might call "word vomit" in Mean Girls, I say "You will probably never see me again." to the lab instructor, and leave the room. I can't believe I did that either. Some professors/people in authority might think it's disrespectful...who knows. But the deed was done.

He's an easygoing guy, though. And feeling a little guilty about what I had said, I walked back into the room. He was just smiling and laughing to himself. So I don't think he really cared. I really did like the lab, and it was a small class (because no one really wants to take friday afternoon classes from 3-4:50), so I was comfortable speaking up sometimes, and he was very laid back the whole time. So I told him that it was a fun semester and thanked him. Then defended my previous statement with "Well, I'm an ed major...so..." and he just smiled and nodded. And then I awkwardly left.

...Good story.

Because someone else was doing it...

2010-11-29T11:22:00.001-08:00

I am so ready for the holidays.

Turkey Day

2010-11-29T10:09:00.000-08:00

So...
Here's what went down.
I have now seen Harry Potter (7.0) three times in 7 days.
Every time it seems to make even more sense.
Woke up 7:00 Thursday morning to head to my brother's apartment with my mom. Continental breakfast at the hotel first, and then we left. Put the Turkey in a roasting pan at 8:00am. Hung out for a little bit, and then we went to Walmart by the hotel to get my dad, who was now awake, and to get some last minute things that we needed (raw veggies, salt for the ice, more stuff that I can't remember...oh yeah, my mom needed a turkey baster and reading glasses). Came back...the turkey was smelling pretty tasty. There really wasn't much to do. I brought homework, but I wasn't going to do it. I also brought yarn and needles for a hat that I was knitting. I worked on untangling that string ALL day and didn't get any work done.
We were all getting pretty tired, which isn't promising, considering we haven't even eaten yet. Feasting makes you sleepy. So we went to get pop. It was going to be a pop-free Thanksgiving because none of us really need the sugar...even though mom only drinks diet. So we went for the diet stuff which never tastes like the real thing, but in the case of Coke is better. Diet Orange Soda DOES taste like regular orange soda...but I didn't realize it is caffeine free when I picked it out. Whoops.
Anyway. We figured the people at Walmart would remember us from earlier (and hour and a half earlier). They didn't, but can't blame them...the workers were all older. Senior citizens, older.
We also went to my brother's office to see where he works. It's a local newspaper in South Dakota...he had to work Friday, hence why we came to visit him for Thanksgiving.
And the feast was delicious! That's all I need to say about that. All the traditional food was there.
Still bored...we went to see Harry Potter. I had already seen it twice, but didn't mind seeing it again. When we got to the theater there was a sign that said "no debit or credit." My dad didn't see it, obviously because he asked "do you take debit? or credit?" NO. Cash and check only. So as we left he says "I guess electricity hasn't come to south dakota yet. My brother was embarrassed, I was too. When we left I said "We cannot come back here!" We found an ATM at a Wells Fargo and got cash. Were back at the theater within five minutes, and unfortunately they remembered us (it's a Cinema 5, so it's not like a lot of people come there in the first place. and it was thanksgiving, and we were the only ones in the lobby at the time). "Four for Harry Potter?"
That was us.
The movie was great, even a third time!
When we got back, we watched the end of Beauty and the Beast (after football was over, of course), and Elf. I sat untangling my yarn the WHOLE time, still with minimal success.
The next morning I had finally untangled my yarn for the car ride home to be filled with knitting.
It was all for naught. That hat was way too small. Tough luck. I could have gotten homework done.
Anyway, it was a good thanksgiving. Different, but still memorable.
...Good story.

Not Quite a Cornucopia of Company

2010-11-25T05:59:00.001-08:00

So...

It's Thanksgiving! And I was so happy to get home! It was a long time coming. Unfortunately, the day after our Northern arrival, we headed West. To South Dakota for the holiday. My brother just moved here about a month ago, and since he has to work Friday and the drive home is too far to make and then go right back, we are visiting him. My sister cannot make it, though.

Usually we celebrate at our house for ALL the major holidays. My mom's side of the family comes over. Thanksgiving is the smaller one, with just my uncle, aunt, and their two children (and their significant others) coming for a late turkey lunch. My grandma always comes too. It is by far my favorite holiday...no presents, just company and seeing everyone for the first time in a long time.

Today, however, it's just my parents, my brother and me. I haven't seen him since August, so I was really happy to visit. His apartment is small, but it does the job. It's freezing, here. Still not ready for it. It's weird to drive to the snow. I am always in MN for the first snowfall of the year. It never fails. This year, there was no snowfall in Iowa. Not yet. Well, now there is. Coming to MN there was snow. Now there's been a blizzard down there. Thankfully I missed it, I hear it was very dangerous.

So in short, this thanksgiving is much quainter. But I'm still Thankful for everyone I do get to spend it with.

And I will hopefully get a lot of homework and knitting done!!!!!

...Good story.

"This is the most redheads I've ever seen on one bench."

2010-11-20T21:25:00.000-08:00

So...
My internet still sucks. But I'm taking my computer to Apple when I'm home for Thanksgiving break. I invested in an ethernet cord, which works for now, and will be good back up in case something like this ever happens again...which it won't. But I digress. This is not the story.

I was going to Walmart today. On the DART bus. If you're from MN, and I guess only MN, Dart buses are for people in need, physically. I don't exactly know how to put that. Anyway, here it stands for Des Moines Area Regional Transit. It's our Metro bus system. So I waited outside in the freezing cold for that bus to come. I got there almost ten minutes early and the bust was 7 minutes late. Welcome to the world of Public Transportation. I've taken it before, but only just got really cold here. And I hadn't taken it alone before. So my destination like I said, was Walmart.
As I get on the bus, I see that it is completely full and there is a handful of people standing and holding on. Okay, balance test. And those handles/poles are so germy. A few stops into the trip some seats opened up, and I took one for myself...praying that a creepy person didn't sit by me. But this really friendly looking woman took the seat, I had a feeling she was thinking the same thing and I looked approachable to sit by...we were there for each other...anyway...
When we got to Walmart, there was a man and his two daughters getting off at the same time as me and going to Walmart. So we awkwardly walked there together. Then I was in and eager to be right out to make the next bus. I bought some yarn because I'm knitting a hat. What else is new? I've knitted so many hats that haven't fit the way I wanted them to. I finally did knit a perfect one...a beanie with not dropped stitches/holes. The problem? It isn't going to keep my head warm at all. So operation get thicker yarn was in action. It was successful. I'm excited for this hat...but I'll save that for another story, presuming I ever finish it.
So I was in and out fairly quickly. And so was that dad and his two daughters. So we awkwardly walked back to the bus stop from Walmart together. Then I sat down on the bench. It was still cold, and I didn't want to be standing and cold. The bench isn't very big. I got there first, so I didn't think it was rude or anything. But I suppose those little girls wanted to sit down. If they asked I would have let them. They didn't even care though. One sat down. I'd say she was about 4. Oh and she had red hair. They all did. Then the dad sat down and the other girl, maybe 7, sat down on his lap. The dad, with his balding head with red hair on the sides, and a red beard/mustache combo looks over at us and says "This is the most redheads I've ever seen on one bench."
Shudder. I do not want to be associated with them, though the girls are very cute and have very pretty red hair, like myself. What if I look like I'm one of the family?! Hopefully I didn't look like their mother or anything...so I avoided talking to them. But I smiled at some of the things the girls said. They were very cute. And when I got on the bus I made it a point not to sit anywhere near them.
...Good story

Frustration...

2010-11-17T19:29:00.000-08:00

So...
Why did I buy a Mac?
Why was I so excited about my Mac?
Stupid.
Stoo-pidd!

I am uber frustrated right now.
And posting angry blogs is probably not a good idea.
Though most angry blogs are resentfully directed at specific people, and start drama and stuff like that.

I'm jus mad at my Mac.
And the fact that IT can't fix it.
And that if I make an appointment at the apple store, I have to find a way to get there. But if I make one at home, it will be a waste of one of my few days I get to be there over Thanksgiving break.

I'm probably jinxing myself posting this angry blog.

My Mac is making me angry.
Once it is fixed. NO ONE is ever touching it again. Except for me.
At least then I'd know that I am to blame.
No one! You hear me?!

...this was a terrible excuse for a story.

...Urban Wildlife

2010-11-07T18:33:00.000-08:00

So...
I've never lived in the city. And I think it's safe to say that I'm outside a lot more than I used to be, what with walking everywhere, and things not being in the same building. I'm not complaining...it's good exercise.
Anyway...animals.
I already told the story about the deer I saw on campus the first week.
Squirrels are also abundant, but I expected that. I think this is true to any college campus. Squirrels just aren't phased by all the people because we are harmless to them, so they don't mind being near to us.
Then one day I was on the phone with my mom and walking to a class. I see a dog running behind a biker. At first I thought it might be his dog. Which looking back, I don't think that really makes sense. People ride their bikes to classes. If he's riding his bike on campus, he is most likely a student, and having a dog with him on his way to or from a class makes no sense. So then the dog ditched the biker and started chasing a rabbit. Here it was, this little dog. If you've seen the show Wishbone, imagine that dog. I watched it chase that rabbit for a good 3 minutes or so. It reminded me of a video we watched in 7th grade science in which a rabbit was chased by a fox. It looked grim for that rabbit, this one made it away safely.

Then today, I was walking to the bell center, it's our fitness center. It was dark, stupid daylight savings time ending. It confuses the "wildlife." I saw a cat in the sidewalk. Just sitting there. I don't like cats. I'm allergic to them and they just aren't playful. I feel like they are snobs...I got enough of that in high school. But they're cute enough. So I just kept walking. Then I find myself 6 feet away from it. And I realized...striped tail, funny nose, dark eyes. It's a raccoon. So I was staring into a raccoon's eyes. Just imagining what's going to happen. Two girls were walking from the other direction, very hesitantly. They obviously knew it was a raccoon before I did. They stood. I stood. The raccoon remained there. So I slowly backed away. The raccoon started pacing. He wanted to cross the street...to campus. But the street is busy. It was only 6:00pm. It was dark, so I get why he was confused. But it's a busy street in the city. He's pacing. The other girls are apprehensive. I'm ready to take a picture with my cell phone. Then he starts walking toward me. Not with purpose, just to continue in his path and hopefully cross the street later. So I chose to get out of his way and go across the street where he wants to go, but isn't making an effort. The other girls do the same. Then he heads back into the street to cross. So I decided to go right back across to where I came from, and so did the other girls. It was a close call. As I passed those girls we laughed at the situation. I hope the raccoon realized that a college campus is probably not the best home for it.

...Good story.

Stephen King Says What I've Been Trying to Say All Along!

2010-11-01T06:42:00.000-07:00

So...
I am reading Misery for a class I was enjoying it until someone told me it is a movie, and Kathy Bates is the star. Now I can't read it without picturing her. It makes it that much more miserable and disturbing. Anyway...it's a story about an author. And though, I'm not an author yet, I feel like I already relate. I am a storyteller. I don't do well at it. But I am a storyteller. Usually I throw in some "likes," "ums," "y'knows" etc. I'm not very verbal...and it takes a long time to get to the point.

But in Misery, the author says "I'm a rotten story0teller,"
And then his captor responds "If you're such a rotten storyteller, how come you have bestsellers and millions of people love the books you write?"
"I didn't say I was a rotten story-writer. I actually happen to think I'm pretty good at that. But as a story-teller, I'm the pits."
"You're just making up a big cockadoodie excuse."
"It's not an excuse," he had replied. "The two things are like apples and oranges, Annie. People who tell stories usually can't write stories. If you really think people who can write stories can talk worth a damn, you never watched some poor slob of a novelist fumbling his way through an interview on the Today show."

I was doing Hallelujahs in my head while reading this. I think I may have even cheered out loud and my roommate heard me. Anyway. I wish I could thank Stephen King in person for this little rant in Misery. It motivated me, or inspired me, or provided me with some sort of relief.

...Good story.

...Great Weekend

2010-10-19T20:07:00.001-07:00

So...

It was a great weekend at home. It could have been better...had certain people that I haven't seen in a LONG time been able to see me. But I digress. I needed to be home, and had I not seen anyone other than my parents it still would have been great.

Saturday night I came home and had a delicious homemade meal. Pork Chops and Apple Sauce! (Maybe you catch this reference from the Brady Bunch). But if not, it's simply pork with apple pie filling on top. And cream of mushroom soup on top of that. And stuffing mix (the tiny crunch cubes) on top of that. Then you bake it. My favorite part is really the apples, cream of mushroom soup, and stuffing...so for you vegetarians take out the pork and try it! It's delicious!

Then I went to a high school soccer game with some friends. i never went to a high school soccer game in high school...but this one I did go to. The team won 10-0...it was kind of decided before it started. I didn't mind, it was fun.

Then I came home. The end.

I went to church the next day, and to the St. Paul farmer's market with my parents. My mom makes salsa and gives it as christmas presents, so she had to get all sorts of vegetables for that. Then I went to get coffee with one of my best friends from church. She very much made my day!

People who read this probably don't really care about my weekend and EVERYTHING I did...but whatever. I went to "watch" my dad play hockey after dinner (we had meatloaf.) My mom's meatloaf is amazing. It never tastes the same way twice because she always makes a different mistake. That is why it is so intriguing. This time, she accidentally used italian seasoned breadcrumbs. It was good, though.

Oh, and mint chocolate chip ice cream. It was delicious.

My dad won his game, and though my mom and I talked the whole time and didn't really pay attention, I think he was glad we came.

Monday was my day to see the daycare kids. There is mainly one that I've missed a lot. She is so cute, and if it wasn't against the law (I'm not sure if it's necessarily against the law, but I think it would be breaching some sort of privacy if I don't get permission) I would attach a picture of her adorable self. It's been two months, so I was worried she wouldn't remember me. Maybe she did, maybe she didn't, but she definitely still likes me nonetheless. She's walking now...all over the place. And starting to talk. Gaa! I missed her so much! I LOVE babies! Another one is still quite irritating, but that is because I'm not very patient and little kids asking questions over and over in high pitched voices because they know it sounds cute...is not cute at all. And then there's another baby, but she cries too much.

That night we had stroganoff, and my grandma came for dinner. I had to finish an essay and email it to a professor, but since I'd procrastinated so much already, I just whipped it up carelessly anyway. Check...

Then some people came over, but there were definitely some people missing that should have been there! AHEM! We played taboo, I found a ken doll leg in my taboo box. It is from a curly haired ken doll who once had a Hitler mustache made with eyeliner for a history project. He couldn't do the splits as well as I thought he could...

(We also played guess who in teams).

Tuesday was a simple day. I woke up early to say goodbye to my dad because I wasn't going to see him before I left. Then I went back to bed. We went for a walk with the daycare kids...it was my way of procrastinating on homework. Then I did some more homework, repacked my stuff, and chilled with a certain adorable little girl. I put her down for nap and almost started crying because I wasn't going to see her until winter break. Then I drove my Grandma's car to the Mall of America to meet my ride. My grandma was in the car too...we worked out this deal that I don't ride with my grandma unless I get to drive...for safety reasons...she finally has agreed. I'm really happy to have driven for the first time in 2 months. I probably put in almost 20 miles this weekend :)

What else...

So we waited at the mall for a really long time. And my grandma was getting paranoid that I had been ditched...but we weren't leaving until 3:15 and my grandma is more than punctual, so when she said something like "Well she must not be in any hurry to get back if she's not here yet." it was obviously unfounded as there was half an hour until the previously agreed time. But paranoia rubs off on me very easily. Whatever.

I met my ride and came back down. It was a very good weekend. It was nice coming home (MN). And if I had been there any longer it would have been impossible for me to leave (and go back to IA).

I accidentally slipped up and said I was coming "home" Tuesday. THIS is NOT home. But I do like it here.

...Good story.

A Collection of Good Stories...

2010-10-18T20:31:00.000-07:00

So...
When I was little my siblings always played a game called "Naptime" with me. It involved us laying on our front hill and closing our eyes. Whoever stayed there with our eyes closed the longest won. I'd always cheat and find them missing. It was their way of ditching me. I would fall for it every time. I would tattle on them every time.
...Good story.

So...
I used to really piss my brother off. I have memories of eating dairy queen ice cream cones in the car and it was just us in there. I'd rub ice cream ALL over my face. He'd get mad. I'd wipe it off (and I surprisingly never remember it being left sticky). Then I'd do it again.
...Good story.

So...
A similar story involving a hockey puck. We used to go to my dad's hockey games on Sunday nights. Just the two of us. When hockey pucks flew over the boards we would collect them and return them at the end of the game. One time I started rubbing the puck all over my face, and getting black smudges all over in the process. My brother got mad and told me to go to the bathroom and wash my face. So I did. Then I came out and asked him if it was gone. He said I'd cleaned it all off. So I proceeded to take the hockey puck and rub it on my face again. He got very mad. I then ran back into the women's room knowing he couldn't come after me.
...Good story.

So...
When we'd go to my dad's hockey games, we brought dinner for ourselves in lunch boxes. We also were allowed to get something from the vending machines if we brought our own money. One game shortly after my birthday, I brought my whole wallet (Pocahontas) with ALL my money in it. Instead of splurging on hot cocoa or a twinky, I found the sticker machine. One of the ones where you put 50 cents in the slot and push the thing in and you get a sticker in the cardboard folder. I boughtt $19.50 worth of Loony Tunes stickers hoping to get a tweety bird one. A few bucks into it I ran out of quarters and went to the concessions to exchange some cash. My brother got a tweety bird one for me with his luck. Then he told me he could get me another one, so he tried. I had to get more quarters a few times. I ended up with 39 stickers and only two are tweety bird. I still have almost all of them, unused with the backing still on. I have about $4,000,000 Loony Tunes currency.
...Good story.

Getting the Heck out of Dodge

2010-10-16T20:17:00.000-07:00

So…

Though I am familiar with the expression “Get the Hell out of Dodge,” I have absolutely no idea where it comes from. My tenth grade American Literature teacher never covered that among his 100 cultural literacy examples. Cultural Literacy was a dry attempt at teaching us catch phrases and idioms, that really wouldn’t come up in conversation if we didn’t learn them in the first place, and that there is little-to-no need for background knowledge of. Most of them originate from the Bible.

I think it is safe to say that this one does not.

Upon minimal research (by minimal I mean a quick Google search, and reading the info. for a link without clicking the link), I discovered Dodge City is in Kansas.

Well, I’m not in Dodge, nor can I recollect any time in my life where I have been. In fact, I am on a Greyhound bus to Minneapolis, MN. It is Fall Break at my chosen University and it could not have come at a better time. Midterms are over, though I have a decent course load and just had two quizzes and an essay due. Others had it worse and I am not complaining.

The bus has me quite nauseated, which is unfortunate because it hasn’t even been a third of the journey. It smells like car shampoo, or something. It is very strong. Not to mention, the view of Iowa is quite dismal. It is nothing like driving through Minnesota. We have farms, too. But I want to see some animals. Torn down cornfields are nothing compared to dozens of cows in the pasture. The most intriguing thing that can remotely compare to cows, is the countless windmills we occasionally pass. I would so much like to sleep right now. I have been in Iowa too long. It has made my stomach weak, I can’t even imagine riding a rollercoaster right now, and I’ve been longing to go to Valley Scare. Gross. And there is no getting comfortable on this bus, so don’t even think about sleeping.

I wish I could access the wifi. It is included in my ticket, so why can’t I get in? Why is it password protected? This bus is constantly moving, no one is going to steal the wifi! And I didn’t pick a seat close enough to the driver to ask. I’m awkwardly straining my neck all over the place trying to find a sign with the password on it…I guess I will wait until the next stop or something…

I really had a good story to tell. Not about something that happened today, but it happened recently. I cannot for the life of me even remotely remember what it was about, or when it happened exactly. But I was thinking about it right before I attempted a nap. Then I lost it.

…Good story.

Significant Insignificants

2010-10-13T18:29:00.000-07:00

So...
You know the question. You've asked them of your parents, and your children will ask them of you (assuming you have children). Someday someone will ask you if you haven't been asked.

Where were you?

Our place in the world seems very insignificant. We know that our surroundings have an impact on shaping who we are. But rarely do we consider that we impact our surroundings. This post is sort of on a whim (but not whimsical in any way). So it may seem to be all over the place.

Where were you on September 11, 2001?
This question has become a Baader Meinhof phenomenon for me. We discussed it yesterday in a media class and today in a psych class when talking about memory. But it doesn't really matter where I was. My situation, as many might say, is so ordinarily mundane, that sharing where I was and what I was thinking doesn't mean anything. Or does it?

Thinking back to September 11, 2001 I remember not knowing. Not knowing what had happened. Not knowing what it meant. Not knowing what was going to happen after that. For months I was still hazy. Hindsight would tell me that I was still getting past my grandma's death, which occurred only 7 days earlier. Coincidentally about exactly 7 days earlier. My grandma died on September 4th in a morning car accident. We had had the funeral shortly after, and by the 11th the process was over, but I'm sure we all still had sore feelings. I walked into school as usual, and as I stood at my locker my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Forrest, stood in the hall. Mr. Bretoi, the teacher from next door approached her.
"Did you hear about the airplane that flew into the World Trade Center?" he asked.
"What?" Mrs. Forrest, a young teacher, sounded shocked.
"Yeah, and another one just flew into the other tower."
I stood there, unaffected. Well, I was curious. The picture in my head was of Croatian Hall. "The Cro" as everyone calls it at home. I imagined a tiny plane crashing into the building. We have a small private airport in our town, so it made sense to my 9 year old brain. That was what I thought. I pictured a mid-twenties new pilot (caucasian male) losing control and landing on Croatian Hall. I had no idea how magnificently off I was until later that day.
Had I been anywhere else when Mr. Bretoi confronted Mrs. Forrest with the news, I don't know how I would have perceived it. They had an impact, though its magnitude questionable, on my experience. How did I impact others' experiences?

Where were you when JFK was assassinated?
Where were you when the Columbia exploded upon re-entry into the Earth's Atmosphere?
Where were you when you heard about the Tsunami?
Where were you when you heard about the Haiti earthquake?
Where were you when you heard about Katrina?
Where were you when Michael Jackson died?
Where were you when the Pope died?
Where were you when Princes Diana died?

Think of all the "where were you questions.
Think of all the people who impacted you.
Think of all the people you may have impacted.
You think this is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And the bigger picture doesn't really care what you were doing. But it IS significant.

...Good story.

Typical College Cliches that are Not Currently Applicable to my Situation

2010-10-11T07:29:00.000-07:00

Things I have not done in college, but it is kind of expected/assumed that I have:

-Eaten Ramen, Easy Mac, or some microwavable meal in my dorm room.
I have no money. I have a meal plan. My microwave is for popcorn and hot chocolate only. I have never had ramen in my life, with the exception of that cabbage salad that has ramen noodles (uncooked) as an ingredient. It sounds gross.

-Been to a party. I am not a partier. I never partied in high school. A party for me involves inviting 10 of my friends, and 5 or six showing up. We watch a movie or something and eat pizza. Oh, and we play really awesome board games. And I don't think I'm missing out on anything, because that is my kind of fun. But my parents don't believe me. I went to the science museum...the SCIENCE MUSEUM in Des Moines one saturday with some people. There was an exhibit that had a display resembling a front step of a house, door, house lights, steps, window, etc. A picture of me on it made its way to facebook and my brother interprets it as me at a Frat house. My mom calls me with this and when I tell her the truth she believes me. Later I get another call that she told my dad and my brother my story only to have them laugh at her in disbelief. They think I'm a great liar. Geesh.

-Drank. I still have never had a sip in my life. I don't see the need to. I get drunk off my own hilarity. I would rather be sober and watch drunk people. It sounds more entertaining. Not to mention I am scared of its impact on my body, actions, and that I'm going to get caught. It just seems like a better idea not to drink until I'm 21. Not that my parents would ever believe me if I made it a point to tell them. Not that they would believe me if they asked and I told them...

Well I can't think of any other assumptions right now...this has just been annoying me lately...that my family thinks I do this. I think my mom might believe me, though. Because there would be no other reason she'd text her college freshman on a Saturday night at 8:30 if she thought I was out doing something she wouldn't approve of. I was sitting at the dorm "doing homework" and watching a movie with people from my floor...a typical saturday night, even if I were at home.

What is Greek about Greek Life?

2010-10-05T15:24:00.000-07:00

So...
Greek rush was about a month ago. I didn't rush. It is definitely not my thing. Not to mention the $2,300 it costs per semester. But I find the concept a little...ridiculous to say the least. All over campus there were posters and fliers encouraging students to rush fraternities and sororities. They said things like:
"Did you know that 3/4 of Drake students are involved in Greek life?"
"Did you know that the average GPA among Greek students is higher than the average GPA of the entire student body?"
"Did you know Greek life is a gateway to internships, volunteer work, among other things that look good when you are looking for a job after graduation?"
"Did you know Greek life is a great way to make life-long friends?"
"Did you know?"
"Did you know?"
"Did you know?"

This is what I have to say to that.
3/4 of Drake students? Okay, I doubt this statistic, and even if it is true...well, I don't want to be one of them. All my life I've been told not to give into peer pressure, I'm not jumping on that bandwagon so stop trying to make me.
Hmm. I wonder why the average GPA is higher...maybe it's because there are less people in Greek life than there are on the WHOLE campus...shrink the denominator and you increase the value...simple math. Not to mention the alleged copied tests that houses have possession of and cheat with. Even if they didn't cheat. Why do I care about the average GPA on campus? As far as I'm concerned, my GPA is the only one that matters to me. If I want it to be higher I will work harder...not join a sorority where they tell you when to do homework.
I don't need a gateway to internships, volunteer work, and other things that look good when I'm trying to get a job. A Drake diploma is all the help I need. That is what they've all been saying, anyway.
I can make my own life-long friends, thankyouverymuch. I can join other clubs for a much lower cost. And I can join DIFFERENT clubs and meet DIFFERENT people and I don't have to sign my life away.
I'm really not trying to be cynical.

What is Greek about Greek Life? With the exception of the letters, which are often spelled out rather than using symbols anyway. I tried to Google it, but I don't know enough about either to compare. For anyone in a sorority or fraternity who happens to stumble upon this (hmm...what if you actually could stumble upon this?) read that carefully: "I DO NOT KNOW ENOUGH ABOUT EITHER TO COMPARE." So all these cynical judgments could be entirely wrong...but there is something called freedom of speech and I'm taking advantage of it. I can't imagine that the Greeks hazed (which there wasn't any of here during rush week), or pranced around in single-file lines on tours of houses, and I don't think that there was a process of admission. You were born Greek or you weren't. In modern day "Greek" life, you have to pledge and be invited...except for those Legacy people, which I guess get an advantage for having a parent in it.

Whenever I'm near people in sororities I feel left out. Granted they are people I don't know and am not friends with anyway (except a few people I befriended before they joined). But they wear clothes with the greek symbols on it all the time. I'm not even sure they have normal outfits. And they talk about sorority stuff all the time...they're like uninteresting inside jokes. I don't like feeling left out...really I just want one of their shirts because they are cute. I should find out how to spell out my name in Greek symbols and then make a shirt....or my initials. That would be easy...and less letters than my name.

My least favorite thing is the philanthropy they do. Think I'm weird? Of all the things to judge, I'm judging the good things they do? I don't hate that they volunteer, help the community, and are charitable. That's great (and there are ways to do that without being in a sorority/fraternity). I simply HATE the word philanthropy. It sounds stuck up and conceited. Just say charity work or good deeds. Though it means the same thing, philanthropy, to me seems to be for the wrong reasons. I heard a girl say "I'm really into philanthropy. And that sorority claims to do the most."
To me that translates as "I'm really into doing selfless acts that make me look good. And that sorority does the most selfless acts so I will look even better."
Philanthropy. Philanthropy. Philanthropy. I shudder EVERY time I hear that word.

...Good story.

It's too early for this...

2010-10-03T21:05:00.000-07:00

So...
I feel so uninspired.
Last weekend I wrote like crazy for my short story class. I think it was because my parents came down to visit me and I was in a superior mood. I was doing so well down here. I made friends. Real friends. I feel like it's too soon to be sure, but honestly there are some people doing college all wrong down here. The point is not to have a group of 15 people everywhere you go! The point is to get a roommate who has a car and find people to fill that car. That is the perfect number of friends...haha that sounds funny.
I really get a long with my roommate, her friend from home, and a girl who lives across the hall, and my neighbor. We don't need anyone else, because frankly, there are some annoying people at college. For the most part, the people on my floor are very friendly and very tolerable, and having a small group feels good.
I met some people in the building next to mine through my friend from home, and they are all fun, too. For awhile I spent a lot of time over there, which I was fine with...but I didn't think I was really doing it right...the making friends thing. They are all very nice people, but I felt like I didn't earn my own friends when I was over there because my really good friend from home earned them for me. It is very nice of her to include me, as I'm not a very sociable-friend-making type, and I feel like I should do stuff with them sometimes too, but those first few weeks when they were all I did stuff with, I would come back to my room and people would ask me where I'd been all day. I don't want to be a stranger to everyone on my floor. I'm still working on that balance. But I am having fun.
I even got a job coaching tennis...little kids....but it's money.
Then my parents came down and I was so happy to see them. I had a very productive story-writing day after they left. I attribute this to the good mood they left me in when they left. But I've hit a lull.
It's been a week. A bad week. I miss my parents. I was doing so well, but seeing them found me back in my old ways. Now, I have a writing assignment due on Tuesday and I have no creative ideas.
It is too early for writer's block. That's what I was trying to get at. I am not an author, I am studying to be one...so why am I out of ideas? This is only the beginning. The problem is that I have an idea for a novel, and I really don't want to have to use that for a class ever. It is my baby and I am saving it/nurturing it so it can be awesome when I write it down and get it published.
I don't even have to write a story for Tuesday, I just have to come up with an idea and write a two-page concept for it. It is my big story of the semester and will be 15 pages when it is done. I don't have any ideas of my own, so I'm going to resort to a cliche technique of writing what I know. Which is a dangerous situation. It's risky. It's something I can never share with anyone I know because they might find out who it is about and think I'm judging them and be offended. But my parents want to read my work sometime...and if I ever want to publish...it's going to be an issue. Maybe I'm worrying about this too much. It is just for a class. But I feel like a cheater.
One Tree Hill pissed me off because Lucas called himself an "author" when all he did was write about his life. That is called an autobiography.
Am I really a hypocrite?
I don't really need an answer...

...Good story.

Arrival Pt. 2

2010-09-26T20:42:00.000-07:00

Read this first. Then read this. Then you can read below.

You didn’t know that I was lying awake too. My bed—the one we shared during many slumber parties—was no more mine than yours.

My mother kept me trapped inside the first few weeks. Your curiosity finally got to you when you took some initiative. You rang the doorbell repeatedly, forgetting that it hadn’t worked for years. You looked up at my window, and met my eyes. You saw my longing desire to get out. When my mother was thrilled when she opened the door.

“Oh, good. A visitor!” she cheered, “I’ll go get Kayla. You two have so much to catch up on.” What was she thinking? Catch up on? Four years felt like a lifetime, but I had nothing to say.

“Hey Kayla,” you said, “Any chance you still have Monopoly?” Though an abrupt request after an awkward greeting, playing a board game was a good way to avoid conversation. Before long, it almost felt like old times.

You included me with your friends, temporarily. Out of pity, maybe. Or guilt. Or selfishness. My fame was your high. Fame I didn’t want; fame you would hate to be yours, but nevertheless envied. Your stuck up friends welcomed me into your circle for similar reasons. You couldn’t avoid reporters when you were with me. And though you acted like you were irritated, you all thrived on the attention like eager mosquitoes devouring blood.

“No comment” you would say, “Just leave her alone!” But you batted your eyes, and extended your neck, jutting your best side to the camera before reaching your hand up to cover the lens. I could see through you.

When we were alone you pried. Your desperation for answers came out of selfish curiosity rather than concern. “What did he look like? Did he hurt you?”

“I don’t know, and not really,” but you didn’t accept those answers. You settled for your imagined plump balding divorcee. You heard his bass voice in your head, raspy from his five daily Cuban cigars.

You were wrong; he was nothing like that. You didn’t imagine him as tall, dark, and handsome. If you saw him and didn’t know better, you would have found his spray-tanned chiseled six-pack, dimples, full head of rich brown hair and chocolate fudge eyes absolutely delicious.

You guessed he was perverted. Bingo. I was given full authority to decorate my room. I was supposed to be comfortable, as if anyone could be. I decorated it like your bedroom, with prayers that you would come switch places with me. I wished it had happened to you.

“Are you sure he didn’t brainwash you?” you asked one night, “Why haven’t the police been able to find any leads? How were you finally able to escape?” You wouldn’t have believed he just let me go. His game was over, four years, no overtime.

When the publicity dissolved, you left me. The cheese stood alone. It was the same way four years earlier when the rat snatched me away.

Then you saw me through my window again. Your friends were done with me, and you went along with it. You could tell it bothered me more this time. The solitude, which I found solace in before I went away, now was my biggest fear. You rang the doorbell, my mother let you in again, and you found me in my room.

“Kayla, I’m really sorry about everything.”

There it was, guilt. With every sorrowful statement, you dug yourself deeper. With every syllable, your guilt, like a magnetic pull, drew my finger’s point toward you. You were the name I needed, the identity of my offender, and the casualty of my corrupted blame.

You looked down at your clasped hands and twiddled your thumbs. You thought of furthering your apology, but realized you weren’t to blame. “Hey, you should come with me. There is so much you missed,” You forcefully grabbed my clammy lifeless hand and pulled me from my rooted stance, “Movies, music, T.V, fashion. Let’s go!”

I couldn’t do it anymore. It boiled over, “Hell no!” I roared, “Why would I go with you? I’ve been gone four years, but we haven’t been friends for six. You ditched me for popularity and fake friendships. You can’t just undo that by taking advantage of my pain.”

“If I could take all that back, I would. I know it’s not my fault, but I blame myself for your kidnapping.”

“I blame you too.”

That was it.

Arrival Pt. 1

2010-09-26T20:39:00.000-07:00

Read this before reading on.

You weren’t the only one unable to make sense of my abrupt return. There wasn’t a high-speed chase, or any anonymous tips to the local police. No ransom, and no contact from my abductor. If the 10:17 pm breaking news report hadn’t interrupted your necking fest with you boyfriend’s best friend, you still would have believed I was missing.

“Kayla Cavanaugh, a Redmond native, was last seen on the grounds of Hill Top Junior High School four years ago today. A routine walk from school took a devastating turn when she did not arrive home.”

With a pseudo-epileptic jolt you jerked back from your current state of affairs to watch the stoic anchor with her beauty pageant posture. With gawking eyes, she spoke, “Redmond Chief of Police, Mark Settler, told KWRX-4 Eyewitness News that a young girl claiming to be Kayla, and resembling this age enhanced photo, entered the police station early this evening.”

“Oh, my God,” You stammered. You pushed away with your forearm against the pubescent tool’s bare scrawny chest, “We can’t right now. I’m trying to listen to this.”

“Baby,” he pleaded, with pouting eyes. Grabbing your lean hips, he pulled you back to him.

“I mean it, she is my neighbor’s daughter.” I was more than that, though. We were best friends until 7^th grade. Living next door helped little when our adolescent cliques were a million worlds apart. Your bubbly personality gained all the boys’ attentions, and everyone wanted to be your friend. That wasn’t what I wanted, so you accused me of not trying hard enough to be accepted.

The prayer vigils held in town after I went missing helped you and the rest maintain the façade of a torn community. Blind searches for clues eased your consciences just long enough. Soon your search found you back in your mundane routine. Occasionally, related stories were part of the newscast, serving as reminders. All too easily forgotten, though, when game highlights and results were aired.

If you hadn’t heard my mother’s high frequency ecstatic shrills darting through the neighborhood, my arrival might have gone unnoticed. The glow of many porch lights enticed the pesky insects just as the police lights in my driveway compelled you and the rest to swarm outside. You saw my worn and torn clothes from countless last seasons. A fashion disaster. My roughly chopped sandy blonde hair blended with my skin, pale from hibernation. Noticing the tragedy of my appearance, you didn’t notice how my frame had developed like other girls our age. If you thought about it, I didn’t look malnourished.

Your eyes joined the conspicuous stares of the rest of the neighborhood. You watched my parents and Chief Settler rush me inside. Few had heard the news at that point, so the media vultures weren’t yet preying on my lawn. Like seagulls, you and the other residents picked at every crumb that fell: my mother’s eager smile, and my father’s quivering chin. You saw the chief’s face showing signs of relief and pride at the conclusion of the search, but his motivated curiosity and concern overrode. You couldn’t read me so easily. I vanished through the front door and you curiously looked around to decipher the reactions of the others.

You saw an awestruck Dwayne Thompson across my lawn and over the hedge. “I hate to admit I’d never thought we’d see her again,” he murmured to his wife, “Unless it was in the form of ashes in an urn.”

Averting your stare across the street you noticed little old Violet Mitchell in a lawn chair stroking her irritated tabby cat on her lap. You wondered why she was awake so late, and how she heard about my homecoming. Talking to no one but herself, she said, “It’s a true miracle,” with sympathy in her eyes.

As you stared at my front door, the light turned off, leaving the insects confused and wanting more. Your mind wandered from memories of playing doctor in daycare, to flag football with the boys on the field in fifth grade. You remembered my upbeat quirkiness that pinned me as the weird girl, and you the weird girl’s friend. That didn’t used to bother you.

From junior high, you only remembered my menacing glares as we passed in the halls, or when you would look back at me on the walk home. You and your friends took the same route as I did, and you never invited me to join. You blamed yourself for abandoning me, but you couldn’t pinpoint when things went wrong.

“So we’re done here?” the tool came to your side and interrupted your memories.

“Don’t be an ass,” you retorted, “We’re done. Go home.”

You went inside and pushed him out the door, slamming it before he could pry his way back in.

You didn’t’ sleep that night.

Next

Disclaimer

2010-09-26T20:38:00.001-07:00

***Disclaimer***

I am self-conscious about my creative writing...even moreso than I would be about a journal. While a journal is more "me." Writing is more personal. This will be a problem if I ever publish (by publish I obviously mean on a more official scale than blogger). I contemplate using a pseudonym so my friends/family can't associate it with me. I fear that my sanity/emotional state would be called into question immediately, though it's not secret I really enjoy fictional drama. I tend to see previews for an episode of a show, and if it's really dramatic (ie. car crash, shooting, rape, all the bad stuff) I will watch that episode. Only that episode. Maybe I'm not entirely balanced. But it shouldn't be too big of a shock that the content I'll write about will align with the content I read/watch. I guess it's just a little more embarrassing when I'm the one who's made it up. But my professor gave me an A- on my first creative writing assignment...which was not very dramatic because it was mainly a characterization piece...about someone I know, too...so not very creative. But this one I pretty much made up entirely...(I watch Law and Order SVU, and various Doctor shows, as well as the soap opera General Hospital fairly regularly, and Degrassi, and One Tree Hill...that's a lot of drama, so I guess you can see some reminiscence in it?)<---learned more than you ever needed to know about me, huh?

I am only sharing this because I want to not sensor this, and also because I know only two people read this...and it's only occasionally. I wrote a first draft for a workshop with my professor and others in my class and they helped show me where I needed to embellish it, but said it was a pretty good start...so I fixed it up for my next class, and hopefully this will do it. Because it is long, I will post it in a few posts...

I'd post this in my other blog, but it's longer than 1,000 words...

next

The Reason for Used Books...

2010-09-16T15:29:00.000-07:00

So...
I am SO grateful that my knack for multiple choice has carried through to college. And by so grateful I mean, so disappointed. Why would I expect a change? My study habits are the same, and classes are mildly more tedious. I don't want to say harder, because more work doesn't mean harder...it just means more work. Therefore: tedious.
In one of my English classes we just read and discuss, I have to write papers too, but there aren't any quizzes or exams. I do fine in this class, because I enjoy what we are reading, and it's not too terrible finding something to comment on. Plus, the professor is a little quirky/awkward/shy, and I think it's very entertaining. I like when professors make class fun.

Then I have this other English class. It's a creative writing class. No, it's a short stories class. We read them and write them, too. We really just have to write practice "scenes" or excerpts from stories that would be longer, but we don't have to write the whole thing. Then we have to write a longer one, that can be a new idea, or inspired by one of our "excerpts." Anyway, we have quizzes on the readings we do of the short stories. I suck at quizzes. Sadly, they're multiple choice, too. I DO THE READING! I did the reading in high school, and had the same outcome. On my last quiz, my professor wrote in big letters...but not in red pen, that must just be a high school thing..."Please read more carefully." Needle prick to my ego. So the rest of that class I made it a point to participate in the discussion. I did the reading, and because I was expecting a quiz, I read more carefully...also it was a more engaging story than the many we've read about sore topics that I am uncomfortable reading/writing about (rape, molestation, incest, 'loose' girls, complete disfunction). This one was a little more relatable to my life, in eyeopening and scary parallels...sad to admit...I can't even believe it was written by a man, because it was so vividly a feminine experience, in the sense that the main character was a woman, and her actions/emotions seemed true to a standard concept of a woman, but deeper into the development of her specific character. ANYWAY.

The point of this story, I was quick to participate and answer questions because thankfully, my book is used. Not only was it cheaper...it was still $75 dollars, which is ridiculous for a paperback book, but it has a lot of stories in it. Literally a hundred or so. But it also had helpful tidbits penciled in...for instance the answer to my professor's first question "What POV is this written in?"
And I could have figured it out on my own, but it was written right there, so I took advantage "3rd person omniscient?" Yeah, I said it like a question...brown-noser move, I know. The person who penciled that in, though was correct. All of her knowledge, combined with my own chicken-scratched notes, made for some decent but rare, input on the discussion...and I possibly didn't look as foolish as the professor thought I was.

Anyway, no one really cares about this story. And when I read this later, I'll be like..."Whoa, you sound so stuck-up, slackerish, etc. what were you thinking in posting this?" But I don't want to censor my stuff more than I already do.

And I will read more carefully from now on...or that's the plan anyway.

...Good story.

A change I can count on.

2010-09-13T07:42:00.000-07:00

So...
When it comes to change, people generally save the quarters and make the most use out of them. I understand. They are worth the most and are convenient to have if you need to go to the laundromat (why isn't it laundrymat?), cheap prize machines, payphones, or vending machines. For a long time I was one of those people who saved quarters...or admittedly took the quarters and only the quarters from my parents' giant change jar in their bedroom closet. It was our vacation fund, and since we haven't gone on vacation for quite some time and they haven't turned the change into cash, I didn't mind taking twenty quarters every once in awhile...that's terrible...but I can't really do that anymore.
Anyway, nowadays (I like that word...nowadays) I only have like 4 quarters in the many places I keep change. I have a ton of pennies and a few nickels. But I have lots of dimes. I've been collecting dimes, not unknowingly really, intentionally, but I never really thought through why. Until yesterday when I had someone over to watch the packer game. I don't like the packers...but we both decided that since we were both in our rooms alone, we might as well keep each other company. So I was cleaning my room, and getting all my change together when I found a dime on the floor. Then I went on this rant about why dimes are the most convenient type of change.
It went something like this:

"You know how our ID wallets have pockets for change? I only keep dimes in mine. I've been collecting them. Every time I get change I put the dimes in there. Just the dimes. Think about it, it's the only change that makes sense. Sometimes I feel like going to the vending machines. It's a bad habit to get into. But pennies don't work in them. If I have quarters they not only take up a lot of room, but I think I have more money and I might get snacks more often. So it's dimes or nickels. Look at nickels (I took a nickel out for her as if she had no concept of its size). They're ridiculous! It's 2 1/2 times the size of a dime, and worth half as much. You need twice as many of them to get a snack. And they're bulky in my ID wallet. So dimes make the most sense (If I were telling this story I would laugh at the pun(ish) statement (sense/cents)(yes I put parentheses in parentheses)). It's just enough value so that I don't need a ton of them to get a snack, but not enough to where I feel like I have a lot of money and I get snacks a lot. And they don't take up that much space!"
Then she just looked at me with an awkward smile like she understood what I was saying, and if she thought about it as well it made sense, but she still wasn't certain why I was so passionate about the topic.
I had never thought about why I collected dimes. But I found myself in the middle of that rant not realizing how I'd gotten into it or why I really cared. Hahaha.
I'm finally starting to get comfortable with people here...I still miss home a lot, but I think it's normal. I get to see my parents in two weeks and fall break is in October so I'll go home...if I don't have to work anyway...yeah I get to coach little kids in tennis through Des Moines Parks and Rec. It's so exciting! I so need money right now.
But I do have 90 cents in my ID wallet...all in dimes.
...Good Story

P.S. I just realized I called a previous blog pots "Do you have change for a dollar?" when the post was nothing about money. It was about life changes. This post I implied was not about money, but rather life changes. This one is about money...
at least I'm consistent

My Psych Professor is AWESOME!

2010-09-09T08:22:00.000-07:00

So...
I don't know if it's because the class is 3 hours out of her night. That it goes right through dinner (the usual dinner time anyway). That only one person is attentive. Or that she's just awesome. But my Psych Professor is Awesome. I've already mentioned that I was scared of her before even meeting her. Then I considered that she has her Master's in Psychology, so she can't be to mean or terrifying. Instead, she's actually funny for a professor.
The class goes from 4:00pm to 6:50. Who eats dinner before 4 and who it's after 7? Exactly! But she gives us a break, and for some people they have enough time to go get a meal in the middle of class and she lets us eat in there. For me, I just get my wrap...the guy who makes it know my usual by now...and eat it before class but save the chips and fruit for the break and after. It spreads it out, which is sort of nice.
Then there is this obnoxious kid in class who doesn't shut up. I was surprised he was a freshman because he seems unusually cocky and too much of a know-it-all for someone relocated to Iowa...it was a relocation he's from MN like me.
Anyway...so it was the third week of the class and we were learning about sleep.
Reason # 1 she is awesome:
Sleep: (n) the irresistible tempter to whom we inevitably succumb.
I love that definition. It's not even really scientific...but you can tell she has a sense of humor.
Reason #2 she is awesome:
A kid walks in late after the break and my professor says "I was late too, I don't think she noticed, though." A few people laughed and she said, "I'm glad someone gets my jokes." I love senseless humor!
Reason #3 she is awesome
We watch so many youtube videos and watcher he play games online. It's "educational" but it's fun.
are you distracted?
Reason # 4
She was talking about concentration and said that music helps people concentrate, especially music without words. Then the obnoxious kid said "Instrumental music?" as if he was trying to give her a word she was looking for. How unnecessary, though...gosh. Then she proceeded to say "Not necessarily instrumental." and she started humming as an example.

...Good story.

Reading and Writing the Short Story (Creative Writing Assignment 1)

2010-09-05T22:18:00.000-07:00

So...
I don't feel very creative. My first actual take-home writing assignment was to write about someone I know. This person had to have distinct mannerisms that annoy me. This isn't hard, because there are many people that annoy me. Someone actually asked if the person had to be real. The Professor said we could make it up if we felt like it. The only thing that mattered was that we have a story. It doesn't have to be a distinct story, but rather a scene that is part of a story. Beginning and End don't need to be clear. Great. I like rules and guidelines. Why do I want to become an author? This is so hard. It seems like anything-goes.
So I started writing about this man I know. He's really strange, but I realized that he's not so strange that I can go on about him for 3-4 pages. Here is where the creativity comes in. I exaggerated most things, and came up with some new things that don't really pertain to him. This seems like one of those gray areas where some authors can seriously offend their acquaintances. That's how it always happens in tv shows and movies. The point is to intensify things, so it's not like anyone should take it personally. I changed the names...which are still blatantly obvious if you know the situation. I guess I just need to pray that it never gets back to the subject...the real subject. I suppose it won't. But I still feel bad about it. It's kind of weird if you think about it. We're told to write what we know, but that gets us in trouble.
Off to a great start in my preferred career path...

...Good story.

I posted the story in my other blog: 1,000 words

I Love My Grandma

2010-09-04T13:20:00.000-07:00

9 years ago today my grandma passed away. Her car was hit by a garbage truck. I'm not sure if it was actually a garbage truck, but it was something that size. Anyway. I didn't realize that today was September 4th until I looked at my phone and it hit me. This was the first year I've almost forgotten. But I will never forget how much I miss her, love her, and how much she cared about us all.

--------------------------------------
Hey Dad,
I thought about grandma today.
I love you.
-Madeline
--------------------------------------
Me to….

I am glad that she was here long enough to make an impression on all of my kids. She had many good years but her best and most enjoyable years were as a grandma to all of her grandchildren. I miss her and think of her often.

She is looking down on you and is so proud of your career choice, your involvement in art, your involvement in music, and just the fact that you are a wonderful human being who has the world ahead of her. She is so proud looking down on you. She had no favorites but had a way of making you all feel special. We all used to think that each of us was Grandma Stratmoen’s favorite. I thing mom had that same skill.

Thank you for thinking of her and for letting me know. You are a better person for knowing her.

Enjoy your day.

Love you.

Dad

----------------------------------------------

10 years ago my grandparents lived in Northfield. At that time I "knew" I was going to go to college at St. Olaf when I graduated. I was going to go there and come visit my Grandma all the time. Who would have thought things would end up SO differently, with my Grandpa and his new (I say new, but they've been married almost 9 years now) wife in the process of selling their Northfield house. And I'm 3 1/2 hours from St. Olaf College. One thing that is the same, though...I'm working on getting my teaching degree. My grandma was the favorite teacher of so many kids. So many of my teachers (back when they weren't all in their 20's-30's) had her or worked with her at some point. Apparently she was influential to many more than her own family and grandchildren. I believe it!
Anyway, I really do miss her. And I wish I could have known her longer.

...Good story.

Thinking

2010-09-01T19:00:00.000-07:00

So...
I guess that wasn't my 45th post. I had two drafts...three counting this one, which just said "So...Again" I'm not sure what that even means, or where I was going with that. It was called "thinking" too. I'm not sure what I was thinking about.

But sometimes when I post old drafts, but I have published things more recently that were written more recently...the newly published yet older written posts don't go to the top, but remain in the middle of the blog where they belong consecutively...so when I write one that I want to censored, I save it to post until later when it's going to be among many others, hoping that more often than not is overlooked, but is still there for people to read. Sometimes I save a post as a draft because I want to upload a picture with it. Then I write another post, and publish that one before I get a chance to upload a picture for the older one. But when I finally get the picture and publish the older one, it doesn't go to the top of the blog, which is where I look for it. (I realized this when the two-parters were interrupted accidentally by another unrelated post). This is why I thought my method of censoring but still posting would work...

tonight, I realized it didn't...as one post comes from early August and is about a swallowing condition that's sort of embarrassing, and therefore I wanted to keep it where it belonged in the order of when I wrote it.

And I didn't realize I hadn't published my friendship bracelet one yet.

Anyway...this explains why Post 45 is not really the 45th post to be published...I'm sure I didn't clear anything up.

...good story?

Hypochondria? (aka TMI)

2010-09-01T18:32:00.001-07:00

So...
I have this embarrassing condition. Not so much a condition as episodes.
When my allergies are bad, really bad, and I'm stuffy and clogged, food gets stuck in my throat. I know what you're thinking. "It's called choking, chew your food, pig." Trust me. After the first time it happened, I became very paranoid...and cautiously chew my food like 56 times before swallowing. And it's not like it happens with stuff like steak, or hotdogs, or the usual things people choke on. It happens with sandwiches, bread is spongey, not easy to choke on. And it's not choking anyway, because I can breathe, talk, cough, swallow pills, my voice doesn't change. The only thing I can't do is take liquids. Which is my initial instinct, when it happens. Then there's this gagging thing that's absolutely disgusting. It is the most embarrassing thing in the world And I have a constant lump in my throat. Eventually it passes, and the lump just goes away. You think I sound crazy? Well, I told the doctor, and she just gave me a blank stare. She was able to tell me that these "episodes" are not choking. If I can breathe, talk, and cough, there is nothing in my windpipe. So she said it's stuck in my esophagus.
I didn't really want to say anything to the doctor because I fear that all my concerns are silly, and I don't want to come off as a hypochondriac. But my mom insisted that I do because these "episodes" terrify her, and I'm going to be away at college for the next year, and she doesn't want it happening.
So the doctor told me that this sounds weird, and I should get tested. The test is called a video swallowing test, and it's given by a speech specialist. Speech specialist? It's a swallowing condition...whatever.

So before going to the hospital for my appointment, I know...the hospital. They can't do it at a regular clinic? Seriously. I felt so stupid going there for something so stupid and embarrassing. Anyway, before I went, I looked it up online because I wanted to see what they do for a video swallowing test. I couldn't find it anywhere...but it said: "Dysphagia: inability to swallow properly. There are 50 muscles in your face, throat, and esophagus that contribute to the swallowing process. If any of these muscles is not working properly, the patient has dysphagia. Symptoms are often a lump in the throat caused by the trapping of food during swallowing. Dysphagia occurs most commonly in the lower esophagus of adults. To diagnose the problem, doctors use a video swallowing test."
Nowhere, could I conclude what the test involved.

I got to the hospital, and we waited forever. I finally am called in and a lady brought me to an x-ray room. She asked my permission for my mom to come in, and I was like...yeah, I brought her didn't I? And then she whispered in my ear "Is there any chance you could be pregnant?" And I was like "no." Seriously, there was any chance, and I thought I was pregnant, and I didn't want my mom to know...I wouldn't have let her in the room, knowing you were going to ask that. Seriously! I guess it's procedure...but whatever. Afterward, my mom was like "What did she ask you?" so yeah, the whispering in the ear is anything but discrete...and then if I were pregnant, and I didn't want my mom to know...how would I get out of that position? Anyway, I told my mom how ridiculous I thought it was that she asked that, and whispered it...pretty much I just gave her the same rant I'm giving you.

I was terrified that the test was going to involve them shoving something down my throat. My friends thought maybe they'd make me take a pill camera...and they might want that back. GROSS!!!! And then I thought...so if they want it back, that means someone else has to swallow it? Then I thought...so I might be swallowing what someone else...never mind.

The test didn't have anything to do with a pill camera, or something being shoved down my throat. Instead, I ate element 56 from the periodic table...yes, look it up...I'm making you.

I was nervous about it. What if it tasted nasty? And eating it plain? Gross! She told me it tasted like marshmallow. I can see how some might think that, but it was tangy. I can't really explain it. Kind of like really sweet vinegar? Or like sherbet...but still kind of like a marshmallow.

First I took a sip of water mixed with Atomic number 56. And an x-ray showed it going down m throat...kind of cool. Then I took a few sips continuously.

not my x-ray. but all that dark stuff is Element 56.

Then she mixed some in vanilla pudding, and I had a bite of that. Then she spread it on a graham cracker and I had a bite of that. It was the strangest thing I've ever been through.

So the test was inconclusive. Actually, the test was conclusive that my condition is inconclusive because there is nothing physically wrong with the many muscles involved in swallowing. So they told me I am not crazy, but that really just means I am...

Lol. I did learn something interesting, though. When I feel that lump in my throat, it's likely lower down in my esophagus, or in my chest sort of. Our brains are wired to feel the problem higher than it is, so we feel it earlier as a survival instinct. They pretty much just told me to document it if I experience it again. And if I can, come in next time it does. Like broken cars that work perfectly fine when you bring it to get checked, maybe it will never happen again...I hope it doesn't.

...Good story. I'm sorry I wasted your time with that one.

...ps, it's Barium.

It is Finished!

2010-09-01T18:32:00.000-07:00

So...
Ignore the biblical reference, if that's what your first impression of the title was.
In fact, I was talking about this work of art that was invading my life. I wasn't very determined to work on it over the past few months, but I was determined to finish it this week because I didn't want to be working on it during college, not that I would have, but I didn't want it to remain unfinished forever either.

www.friendship-bracelets.com has become my most visited website, which is a big deal, because facebook is my anti-drug.

I do actually like the final product. It's much better than the first one I made, and my plan turned out sort of cool, in its own subtle way.

I made a bunch of bracelets that all had some sort of orange shade in it, but none had any sort of green incorporated in it. Then I made a bunch that all had some sort of green shade, but none had any orange in it. Then I sketched spirals and other swirly patterns, and separated it so it's kind of sectioned within the shapes. So I put all the orange ones together and all the green ones, and it turned out looking striped, but not very obvious. I'm glad you can tell...because if you couldn't, it would have been annoying.

I am so glad to be done. I do have extra floss, but now I'll probably just make some more bracelets to wear and/or give to my friends. The problem, though, I haven't actually made one that was the right size for a wrist, because they haven't needed to be. It might be hard to figure out how much floss to use.

...Good story.

POST 45

2010-09-01T18:07:00.000-07:00

I didn't know what to title this. I didn't know which one I wanted to be a landmark: 45 or 50. 45 seems like a landmark. It seems so perfect. Like a clock...which as you'll read on, works with the rest of this "story." If you can even call it that. The clock is genius. 60. A number divisible by 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 12, 15, 20, 30, and 60. (Who would have thought of that last one?) Anyway, 45 reminds me of 3/4 an hour, which reminds me of a clock. 50 doesn't seem that landmarkesque. So here we go...post number 45. Not story number 45, as a few stories took a few posts, and a few posts had multiple stories...but whatever.

So...
1:01 1:11 1:21 1:31 1:41 1:51
2:02 2:12 2:22 2:32 2:42 2:52
3:03 3:13 3:23 3:33 3:43 3:53
4:04 4:14 4:24 4:34 4:44 4:54
5:05 5:15 5:25 5:35 5:45 5:55
6:06 6:16 6:26 6:36 6:46 6:56
7:07 7:17 7:27 7:37 7:47 7:57
8:08 8:18 8:28 8:38 8:48 8:58
9:09 9:19 9:29 9:39 9:49 9:59
10:01
11:11
12:21

1:01 1:11 1:21 1:31 1:41 1:51

2:02 2:12 2:22 2:32 2:42 2:52

3:03 3:13 3:23 3:33 3:43 3:53

4:04 4:14 4:24 4:34 4:44 4:54

5:05 5:15 5:25 5:35 5:45 5:55

6:06 6:16 6:26 6:36 6:46 6:56

7:07 7:17 7:27 7:37 7:47 7:57

8:08 8:18 8:28 8:38 8:48 8:58

9:09 9:19 9:29 9:39 9:49 9:59

10:01

11:11

12:21

Gibberish? No. Look carefully. Consider the repetition. What do all these numbers have in common? Well, they're times, right? Look closer. They're all palindromes. At the risk of making an ass out of myself...palindrome– noun

a word, line, verse, number, sentence, etc., reading thesame backward as forward, as Madam, I'm Adam or PoorDan is in a droop.

So what does this have to do with anything? And why does anyone care?
Well I care. And this is my thought process, so go with it or stop reading.
It seems that every time I open my cell phone to check the time, it is one of the times above...it is a palindrome. Normally I don't think anything of it if it is. But it's happening ALOT lately...so I thought about it...oh, the odds must be fairly high, then. They're not, though. Not really. Look above, there are 114 palindromes in the day. There are 1440 minutes (24 hours X 60). So there is a little less than an 8% chance that the time will be a palindrome when I check it. Given that I'm not awake 24 hours of the day my chances are a little different. If I wake up at 7:30 AM and go to bed at 11:00 PM. That gives me 73 opportunities to witness a palindrome in the 930 minutes I am awake. Now my chances are a little less than less than 8 percent (I did not accidentally repeat myself here.) Before it was about 7.9% now it is 7.84%. So my chances didn't even go up with the shorter day. They WENT DOWN! Very minimally, but still. So why do I constantly see palindromes? I must be looking for them? It's sort of creeping me out. I should change my clock to Analog.

...Good story.

Charlie the Unicorn is No Match for this Adventure!!

2010-08-28T18:13:00.000-07:00

So...

My day went something like this:
Wake up 8:30. Get dressed. Head to the neighboring dorm building. Meet some friends. Head to the bus stop. Wait for a bus. Head downtown. Catch the bust to the mall. See Inception. Come home. Sounds simple enough, but that's not quite how everything worked out.

Getting downtown was not a problem. The morning went smoothly. We stumbled upon the Farmer's Market--where they had free samples. The salsa was so good! Then we found the science museum...went in the gift shop...I got some letter magnets for my fridge...because what fridge is complete without them?
We ate lunch at this place called Spaghetti Works. Then we stayed downtown. We walked down to this park by the river. The water is pretty high because it was flooding some steps that go down there. We went down the steps and "Noes-Goes"ed to decide who should go down the steps to see how many more there are under the water.

I decided noes goes is stupid. No one is ever "ready" for it the first time, so you have to do it again. Someone else lost the first time, but I lost when we re-did it. So of course I had to do it. Nose-goes is like an excuse for peer pressure. Haha, I think it might have been my idea anyway. So I descend the steps, and slip on the first one. Obviously! There's this murky grimy scum on the steps built up from the river. Why wouldn't I slip?! Schmutz I think was the word given to that. Schmutz is pretty much the equivalent of gunk. I banged my wrist on the step and got a bruise right away. It's not broken or anything. There was a clean schmutz-free stripe on the steps from where I slipped...and therefore a green buildup of the stuff on my foot. And my pants were wet for awhile.

We kept walking to this store where they had a bunch of shirts with slogans on it...like "Des Moines, just outside of the middle of nowhere." and other things like that. After that we headed to the bus stop for the mall where we were going to see Inception. The bus isn't that bad, I have never been on a city bus until today, but it's kind of fun...a little sketchy...but whatever. It was a long ride to the mall, but we got there in time.

Inception is an awesome movie!!! I wouldn't pay to see it again in theaters...mainly because I'm cheap...but I definitely would like to own it when it comes out! I'm not really confused by anything. Well the end, I suppose. But I think it's real life. We got out of the movie to discover that the last bus stops at 5:32. It was 5:36 or so. We were praying that it was late. It was actually, we got outside around 5:40ish and the bus was still there, but he told us he wasn't going to bring us anywhere near campus...great. So we got on anyway, this guy told us how to get back...but we weren't trusting him. Then the bus driver told us how to get to Walmart and maybe see if a bus would have another stop there. We get off the bus walk about a mile to Walmart, on busy roads without sidewalks or crosswalks, and passing under an interstate bride...that was kind of cool. Then we see if another bus is coming. It's not. So we had to call a cab company. There were 8 in our group, and 2 girls who we ran into also trying to get back to campus. So we needed like 3 cabs. I got in the third cab with two other people...but we didn't realize it was there for us because the first 2 were yellow, and ours was white. But the guy said "Katie made the call" so we knew it was legitimate.

And thus our return back to campus had been fulfilled...10 hours after we started...the day, not the trip back to campus.

...Good story.

Why?

2010-08-27T07:51:00.001-07:00

So...
Why must Demi Lovato confuse acting with TALKING VERY LOUDLY?!
...Good Story

...

2010-08-25T17:31:00.000-07:00

So...
I should be doing homework. What else is new? Wait. That is something that is literally new! This is the first time in awhile that I "should be doing homework."

College. Man. I guess I should welcome myself to it. Thus far it has been one stress after another, but it's all working out (knock on wood with me).

Three days ago I wanted to join band. I brought my sax with me for a reason, right? So I attended a meeting (which lead to a BBQ, free lunch!). I learned I needed to sign up for a class, but I have 2 conflicts with the class. So the band director told us all that we could have one conflict, just one. He handed us all add/drop slips to be filled out. So what was I going to drop? Psych of course. It was that or English...a creative writing class (perfect for me) and there was no way I was dropping English. My advisor agreed. So I successfully dropped it.

The problem? I have two advisors, one for education and one for the college of arts and sciences. My advisor for my English Major disagreed, who would have thought she'd want me to drop English and keep Psych? Not me. It makes more sense because psych is a bunch of credits. And if I dropped it and couldn't get anything else, I'm not a full-time student. So I was freaking out. Now I needed to get psych back and drop my English class.

As if I wasn't stressed enough from the displacement from home/friends/family, now I had this thrown in my lap...and I also had Jazz band auditions! I showed up having no idea where they were, or where I could prep for it (not having payed my saxophone for a few months...tsk tsk.) I asked a girl where to go, she told me. I must have looked completely disheveled emotionally, because well...I can get to that in a second.

I find a practice room at the end of the hall away from all the occupied ones. I want privacy, and I don't think the soundproof foam is quite effective. Unfortunately another tenor finds the room right next to mine, and is a his talent level is a little more than 1,000,000,000 gallons above mine (yeah, try that measurement on for size). So I stop playing, because I can hear him...so I know he can hear me...and I'm embarrassed. This is where the girl from before comes back into the picture. She opened the door and sat down with me. She could tell I was nervous...what she didn't know was that all this other crap (financial aid, job searching, scheduling crises) was on my mind too. But she made me feel better about the audition. There is always Jazz 2 and Jazz 2 is easy to get into, and not very...let's just say perfect. It's ideal for musicians like me who just want a hobby, and not a music major. So the director was nice, the audition went averagely for sight reading and improv. I got into jazz 2.

Scheduling conflict again! Jazz 2 meets during the psych lab that I had, and need back.
Tuesday was busy, with classes. I had to go to them all, even the English class that I planned on dropping. If I couldn't get psych back, I'd have to keep English, and if I didn't go the first day, I am automatically dropped. The whole time I was sitting there, listening to the professor go on about creative writing, and making it very fun. I kept telling myself "don't fall in love with this class, you can't stay in it. You can always take it next semester...oh gosh I LOVE THIS CLASS!!! Why must I give it up?" So I was bummed that I had to drop the one class that is the most fit for me of all my classes this semester!

Then I met with my advisor today. He told me there must be a way for me to keep everything and do band. There wasn't. So after crying in his office...yeah, crying. Embarrassing, right? We decided the best decision for my education was to go back to my old schedule...and I'm a little more comfortable with this decision since I still have jazz band. I don't need marching band too. That actually means less money I need to spend (on marching shoes and a shirt).

But then I had to go track down my professors for psych and my psych lab to get those classes back, and I actually needed a different lab because of Jazz band. But I was terrified. "What if I pronounce their names wrong? What if they are offended? What if I accidentally say professor when they want me to say Dr?" But I was overanalyzing it. I was actually LUCKY that my conflict involved psych professors. These professors understand people, and their emotions. They understand that my psyche is already a little bruised from the last 7 days. So thank GOD I got that sorted out. But I did have to go back to the band director and drop that...he didn't care. What a relief!

So I pretty much brought my schedule full circle. The only difference is that I have class until 4:30 on fridays...I guess that's not a huge issue.

...Good Story.

I apologize to the people who don't care. But then I say, "well why would you read it?"
I hope my stories become more quirky soon. But understand that my personality is not as honest as it usually is because I'm around new people, and new friends. It's going to take awhile to break that down.

Today Really Made Me Miss Home

2010-08-23T17:00:00.000-07:00

I was rushing all over the place--even though I didn't have classes--feeling like everyone knew I was a lost cattle, which is odd...because most cattle should feel perfectly at home in Iowa...
I still feel like I have so much to figure out and straighten up. It's so stressful.
Yeah, this was depressing.
...Good story.

College

2010-08-19T21:47:00.000-07:00

So...
This post has nothing to do with college. But I'll give this little piece, or two cents if you will.
I'm away from the majority of my friends, and a lot of them I might not keep in touch with because let's face it, we weren't GREAT friends, we just didn't have any problems with each other, and we had stuff in common. I can find people like that anywhere. But I like to think that people like my "good stories." That is precisely why I started this blog, so that people could still hear my good stories when we are far apart.

That being said, I haven't really told anyone about my blog. It's under my websites on Facebook, but when I added it, I deleted the action from my recent activities. The friends that matter know about this...but they don't know about the other blog that I just started. I'm making that one my non-fiction blog. DORK, MUCH? Yes!!! I have two blogs, I'm not addicted...but I got bit by the blog bug. The BLUG!!!!

Non-fiction, fail? Probably. The first post was a little personal, and based on my current transitioning situation.

Long story short, I won't be very open about this blog on Facebook because of all the family I'm friends with. So if people care enough to discover my websites in my contact info. I guess they are worthy enough to read it...except creepers.

Okay, so the point of this post was really to tell you this.

I was walking around campus with some new friends and an old one, and we got to the area by the classroom buildings, and this security guard told us we couldn't go past there because of a curfew. So we said "okay" and turned around. Then he laughed and said, "You guys are freshman aren't you? I was only joking."

Suckers!

A few minutes later in the middle of campus, but since it was night, there was no one over by the classroom buildings--it was just the four of us--and we see deer outside a building under some trees. It was dark, so I get why they might have thought it was a safe place for them, but this is a CITY! And a COLLEGE CAMPUS!!!! There were four of them. 3 medium sized ones. Obviously female, not bucks...and then a baby. We tried to take pictures with our cell phones, but it was dark...and we couldn't get close enough.

...Good story.

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

2010-08-16T11:22:00.000-07:00

By Dr. Seuss (aka. Theodore Geisel, aka. Theodore Lesieg)

Because I'm feeling unoriginal, philosophical, and it's sad to say reading this made me cry.

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't.
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
that Bang-ups
an Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you can sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
   The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
   Waiting for a train to go
   or a bus to come, or a plane to go
   or the mail to come, or the rain to go
   or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
   or waiting around for a Yes or No
   or waiting for their hair to grow.
   Everyone is just waiting.

   Waiting for the fish to bite
   or waiting for wind to fly a kite
   or waiting around for Friday night
   or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
   or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
   or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
   or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
   Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. There are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul.
On you will go
though your enemies prowl.
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl.
Onward up many a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike.
And I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
   KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

...Good story

Do you have change for a dollar?

2010-08-16T10:38:00.000-07:00

So...
Two more days in this wonderful small-town suburban place I've called my home forever...18 years, 8 months and 28 days to be exact. Change hasn't ever been too difficult for me. However, this is most likely because I've never experienced any change too drastic. When my sister went to college, I missed her. When my brother went to college, I missed him. I'm very close with my family. In many ways, they are my best friends. I know how dorky that may seem. But despite our quarrels, and childish arguments, and all those times we butt our stubborn heads, and refuse to concede, I wouldn't change a thing. This Summer has been especially hostile between me and my parents. I think this is a mixture of me just wanting to get out, and knowing that it's happening in a very timely manner, and also of me knowing that I'm going to be away so I should start pushing them away sooner. I'm super dependent on my parents. I still will be in college, but it's still going to be different. Conversely, this Summer has been unusually lacking in the quarrel department between me and my temporarily at-home brother. I usually can't stand when he's home, because it cuts my alone time way down, and I can't find a space to myself in the house. We've also often argued over who gets to watch the TV, or he makes fun of what I choose to watch on TV. And he'd have friends over, and I hated walking into the basement after being out with friends, to find that his friends are there. I'm not a huge people person...haha.
Well there hasn't really been any of that this Summer, I think we get along better than we ever had. Probably because I know I'm leaving, and I've actually...you guessed it..."matured!" No way. I probably haven't matured if I have to point out that I have...Or he's matured, that's probably it...he's "grown up" for real now. More than just an adult, more than just of the legal drinking age. He's got a college degree, and all his friends have "actual" jobs, and he's in the process of having one in his field of choice. I guess this is that sibling relationship my parents always said we'd reach eventually, when we stop fighting, and aren't jealous anymore. Scratch that. That stage is a few years away.

The hardest thing for me, is leaving my mom alone. It sounds weird, but I feel a little guilty leaving her here. I know she raised me to grow up and be independent, and she's already been raised, but everyone needs someone to talk to.

I must clarify: my parents have a very strong marriage, love each other, and both live here together, but financial hardships have had my dad displaced in his career. He works odd hours, referees hockey games in his free time, and is currently looking into a new job that would make more money, but might require him to be on shift for a few days at a time. Thus leaving my mom her alone. In addition, my sister has a job and lives an hour and a half away, and my brother could possibly be at least that far away if not farther if he gets one of the jobs he's interviewing for.

With me nearly 4 hours away, mom will be alone. She says she'll be fine, and I'm sure she will soon, but I still feel bad. This is the reason they are considering getting a dog...for company. I really hope they do, and I hope she bonds with it. She's got a friend across the street, another in town, and my grandma lives a 10 minute drive away, but still. She tells me about her day, and about the kids in her daycare, she vents to me, and I pretend to listen. I just don't want it to build up inside of her if she has no one to tell it to.

I confronted my mom with this, and she laughed it off, saying she's a big girl. I guess I have to accept that. There really isn't anything I can do. Obviously I'm not leaving her for good, and we do have a good family plan for cell phones, so I can call her. I guess I just needed some way to vent that, publicly on a blog. Great choice...

Anyway, I think I'll adapt to the change. I'm excited to meet my roommate, and meet a bunch of people, and learn what I want to learn. An added bonus is the fact that my loan situation is about to be figured out, and I'll be set for the year. I've been away before, never for more than 10 days, but I've been away, each time knowing I'd be back, and I'm very sure I will be. Saying goodbye to people is the hard part. Saying hello, won't be.

...Good story.
I can be philosophical if I want to. And emotional, that comes a lot easier.

Dog Sitting Final Day

2010-08-12T22:32:00.000-07:00

Oh, the dog-sitting days of Summer...
Rather, the dog-sitting nights.

The third night, as you know, didn't get off to a hopeful start. Izzy wouldn't poop. We started in my friend's parents room, hopefully that would help her sleep better. I was just content with laying awake paranoid that she'd make a mess, and determined to catch it in time to get her outside. But I fell asleep. I did make sure to lay the blanket I wanted her to lay on over my sleeping bag to protect myself. It was really hot, but it was worth it.
Then, she stood up and jumped off the bed. I sat right up and looked at the clock, 3AM. I turned the lamp on, and there to my (un)surprise, Izzy has pooped on the carpet yet again. Still tired, I wasn't really pissed. So I cleaned it up...at least it wasn't diarrhea this time.
But we weren't going to keep sleeping in there. I set us up on the couch in the room near the front door. It was impossible to get comfortable with her at my feet, but Izzy got some sleep.

At 6:00 I had enough of laying there, and I tried to let her sleep as I went and found something quiet to do. She realized I was gone pretty quickly. And she wanted to go outside to poop. That's where she should be doing it! Thank you Izzy, for realizing this, now!

It was an experience. Rewarding in some ways. Eye-openning in others. Maybe that's too philosophical. Having never had a dog, I'm not sure I want one now. They are fun to see during their good times. They are not too hard to take care of during their good times. They are cute, all the time. But it's hard when they are gross. I didn't know how to reassure Izzy when she was sick. Talking to her doesn't really work. I guess petting does everything...calms, relaxes, makes her happy...but when she's dirty, or I had just seen what she did, I didn't really want her tongue licking me, or her butt sitting on my stuff.

I don't like that Photo Booth on MacBooks is a mirrored image. It looks funny that my "right hand" isn't playing the upper octave, even though it's really my left hand. I was really confused when I was watching it.

And I'm not sure why it cut off the audio after 31 seconds, and sped up the video like crazy. I will have to do something about that.

We had a lot of fun though. I sat down to play the piano on the first day and she just barked at me to quit. In the end she was sitting on the chair by the piano relaxing as I played.

It's a nice companionship. I see why they are man's best friend. But it depends on the circumstances.

And, it was the only job I had all Summer, so I'll take it. I was super excited to go get new clothes out of it.

Oh, and bring my friend to Dairy Queen because she didn't ask for any of the events that happened when she slept over. She deserves something sweet, even though she didn't really want to think about food when I brought it up...haha!!!

Oh, I forgot to say that Izzy got loose on Day 2. She was in the yard at the top of a hill that looks onto a road, a road less travelled if you will. A lady walked by and she was barking (the dog not the lady). And Izzy worked out of her collar because she was tugging at the leash trying to get away. She ran around the tall grass, and started chasing the lady...who was completely unaware of it. So I start chasing Izzy...don't chase dogs, they only run away. So I stop, she looks back at me and I started running away, seeing if she'd chase me. But she kept following the lady. Until the lady noticed, stopped, turned around and started walking toward me. It didn't take her very long to get Izzy to charge at me. I put her collar back on and thanked the woman. That was nice. What an adventure. My cell phone alert tone sounds like a doorbell, and even outside Izzy thinks there's someone at the door...and she runs inside. It's really funny, and a good way to get her in. But I didn't have my cellphone at that time.

It was quite the weekend. I had mixed feelings about it coming to an end. It's safe to say that I'm happy just visiting the house and seeing Izzy in small doses, from now on...and all dogs for that matter.

But I still hope my parents get a dog!
...Good story.