Toygers and other dreams

In honor of all the many people who get here thanks to my archived picture of a liger (prized for their skills in magic), I am posting a picture of a toyger. Yes, a toyger. These are cats that are being bred to look more and more like tigers, but they won't eat you. They might try (as Cassie proves by gnawing on my arm to wake me up in the morning), but they will have cat-sized jaws and claws. It's a little strange. But hey. Whatever you want to spend your time doing is fine with me.

My mind apparently decided last night that my top-choice school, on which I've given up since I REALLY doubt I'm getting funding and therefore can't afford it, was secretly Hogwarts. And Teddy Hall at Oxford, all in one. And a girl with whom I was friends in high school but haven't seen since opted to go somewhere else so that I could have her funding and her room. Rather nice of her, I thought. It would have been glorious and made me a bit sad. Then I decided to go on Facebook and see if I could find this old friend and, in the process, noticed how many people from my year are now married. That depresses me, mainly because I feel it is somewhat of a sign that they didn't ever really leave my hometown. Which if they are happy, who am I to judge? It's just not the life I would every choose...

Shifting Sand

That's it. I'm moving to Mauritania.

I have other, non-funny thoughts running around my head right now. How can I not? I mean, I looked at going to Virginia Tech for grad school. Besides, everyone who has been to college, particularly college in a college town, remembers what it was like. Remembers feeling like the campus was its own little island. Things on the island might hurt you. You might get sick from drinking or date raped by another student. But nothing like this. The worst things that should happen to you in the classroom are boredom and doing badly on a test or essay.

This all has made me think about some things. 1. The press. For the love of all that is good, leave these poor students alone. I see them on the Today Show, and all of them that I've seen who were actually on campus have this dazed, shocked look about them. The various hosts try to get them to talk about their experiences, their dead friends, their feelings about returning to class and how they're going to recover from this. And I want to scream with frustration. I understand that everyone wants information and wants to understand what is going on and how this could happen. But these kids don't need this from us. They had a girl on today who was a freshman at Columbine when that happened, one of the people in the cafeteria who luckily managed to escape. (This poor, poor girl) And that is what she said. She said that everyone needs to be able to get together, to support each other, to work through what they are going through. Without the press. Without having people ask them for interviews, without having lots of questions asked. And the whole naming the one student as the "hero" of the whole thing. Listen, I think what he did was great. God only knows what I would do in the same situation. But first of all, he was acting to save his own life. Yes, he saved lots of other lives by doing so. And what does that say about all the other people? I mean, there were other people who acted calmly and figured out how to protect themselves and others. What about the guy who blocked the door with his foot, and then, later, ran around doing first aide on the people whom he could help? I'm sure there are others. And what does calling this one guy a hero mean for all the other people, the people who didn't act as quickly?

2. What a strange world the millenials have grown up in. I mentioned Columbine, now this, September 11. I wonder if any of us can really feel safe anywhere. Not that we all think something is going to happen all the time. But I know I personally am not surprised when it does. Shocked, yes, saddened, yes. But surprised? I feel as though I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. For someone to attack the metro, for a plane to crash with me on it. For the earth to flood or a hurricane to blow away California. There are places that I think should be safe. But when I hear proof that they aren't, a part of me just sighs. I think I'll be more surprised if I die without anything tragic happening to me, like of old age or something.

Ant and Grasshopper

I feel like everything in my life is up in the air right now. I'm okay with it... For a little while. The whole thing with SB has really forced me to realize that no matter what happens, I need to make sure that I have a life and support system outside of him here. Which I've known for a while, but it just has been easier to not put myself out there, not try to claw my way into groups. So I went out with CW and her friends on Saturday. One of whom I liked muchly and is going to send me information on her choir, which she says is made up of fun people in their 20's and 30's. I also may have had my first random guy drink-buying experience, as I think a Rastafarian may have bought me a mojito. Then yesterday, I drug myself out in the rain to a meet-up book club.

As for what it actually going on with SB, it's still all confused. We're together, but he's still thinking and everything is rather fragile. I bought a book that he's been assigned to read; he's started it, and thinks it's helping. Also helping is me being sickeningly sappy. It's not sickening to me, though I think it might be a bit much for him. Not that he doesn't love it, because he totally does, but because he doesn't trust that it's real. I'm also going to have to really work on some annoying, frustrating habits. I just hope that he realizes soon that a lot of what he's feeling is frustration and hurt, feelings that can be very much overcome. Or at least that's what I think he's feeling... My prediction, though, is that if we survive this, it won't be incredibly long until we get engaged. Not like weeks or anything, but months. I, of course, can't tell him that because it puts pressure on him. And the whole no pressure thing is KILLING me. Last week, I felt like it was going to start hurting me. But no. The real problem is that I can't keep my mouth shut. You real-life people know that. If I have an opinion, then I feel the great need to say it. I also hate treading water. I see the problems, I think I know what to do, I'm ready to plunge in. Chomping at the bit and whatnot. But that's not SB. That's not him at all. He's cautious and wary and slow-moving. I bounce around, quickly changing direction, and he plods on, working and trying to figure out the best way. So I have to step back, shut up, and let him know how I feel without pushing him to decide things. Yeah, I might need to go buy some ducktape or something to help...