Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Where are the weirdos?
Not that I buy anything there anyways. Like I said, they are too rich for my blood. Plus nothing there fits me right. And I don’t like the cashiers.
Of course, that doesn’t seem unusual as I seem to be liking people less and less these days. Which I’d be okay with (after all, people in large clumps ARE insanely annoying, and teenage girls giggling loudly are a bit ear-piercing), except it all seems to be accompanied by a loss of my weirdness. Not that I’m not still strange, but I used to find the strangest things funny. I’d smirk walking around the streets, all by myself. Now… I just walk. And I’m not okay with this. I mean, you can say it’s just a part of growing older, but I don’t believe that. I think it’s just that the people who brought out that side of me are all spread out over the country. (You quirkies know who you are… J) I’m tired of talking about serious stuff, like politics and global warming and budgets and taxes. I want to be giddy, to say things and have people look at me oddly (I know that’s a strange thing to want, but that’s a part of my point). I want to hang out with a bunch of people and wind up making a hat out of a knife and a napkin again. Basically, I need to find the weird people here who can make me laugh and remind me about that part of myself. You’d think my program could do it, but no… we’re all shockingly normal, besides the whole being completely nerdy thing. (I mean, really. I would hate to come to our parties as an outsider. Three fourths of the conversation is literature or class related, and the other quarter leads back to classes or literature.) I wonder where they are all hiding….
Thursday, February 21, 2008
And yet happiness abounds
I am seriously getting SO excited about this weekend. It really is all that is keeping me awake right now (lack of sleep? Just a bit.). I mean, I’m stupidly tired, as in couldn’t really figure out how to run the mail machine and had to ask our office manager person like 6 questions about it. It’s not like I’ve not used it before. Okay, maybe only once and that was several months ago. But still. And I used the meter at my old office a ton before we moved. I knew how to work that thing. Up until you had to put in codes or zones or something. But not today.
Plus having whined to several people in my program about how it’s “making me doubt myself” and all that other crap like that, I feel better. It helps that my boss used a draft I threw together for her in a couple of hours nearly word for word. The other draft I rewrote seems to have been made messy, but a good portion of my work is still there. I don’t entirely agree with the changes, since it’s made it all confused and not crisp, but not my decision. And I was told that I’m too fast of a worker (as in they can’t keep up with giving me assignments to do, not in that my work is shoddy) and my former supervisor now coworker keeps telling me that not having me as an intern and working with the others makes her realize again how wonderful an intern I was. Not that I want to be a superb intern my whole life; I’d much rather be a superb upper level, well-paid and trusted employee, but it’s a start. A salve, if you will, after crap last job.
Which I actually kind of find myself missing. Not the job itself and DEFINITELY not some of the people. But CW and J and occasionally T. CW and J and I spent a lot of time chatting, particularly about politics and whatnot. I can hear J’s responses to some of the things going on now. They’d be pretty entertaining. T I worked with less, and working with her could be difficult, but she’s still a good egg.
ALSO EXCITING. My brother’s sister-in-law just had her first baby!!! Who is healthy and cute and a girl. I’m so happy for the couple. She was a big baby, too. Eight pounds 13 or so ounces, 21 inches.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Help, I'm trapped in a malaise
See, here's the problem. I never expected grad school to be so hard. I knew it would be a lot of work, but I didn't know it would screw up your head. Maybe I should have. But every single professor wants you to write in a different style, with a different focus on a different type of criticism. Not only do you have to write in a different style, you have to excel at it nearly immediately. You don't get to find your own voice, because the base of what you're writing is constantly shifting.
And, even more fun, this is apparently effecting my work skills, since when I write stuff there, the whole style confusion comes through. It just is exhausting, mentally, physically, and emotionally. I'm tired of being told that I have the ideas, but the style or voice just isn't quite right. All the training I got in undergrad, all the writing skills I learned still just aren't up to snuff.
Plus SB seems to be having some sort of "I'm getting old" crisis, so he's all not helpful and creating other stresses. Add to that the fact that he hated grad school, so all my whining tends to get a very bitter response... And I just found out an old flirtation is engaged. I'm happy for him, but I really wish I hadn't found out now.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Renter's Rights? What renter's rights?
So yeah. My house has no heat. Which is just INSANE, especially since our landlord and his assistant have absolutely no interest in actually caring about us. The heat went out Tuesday afternoon, when the furnace nearly blew up. J, one housemate, immediately called our landlord, his assistant, and the furnace guy. She could get the furnace guy’s number because rather than our landlord actually DOING his job, he’s been trying to get us to organize switching furnaces. Which has led to T, another housemate, spending hours upon hours calling back and forth between the oil company to get them to drain the oil they stupidly put into the tank after we told them not to, our landlord to try and make sure this lack of heat didn’t happen, and the furnace guy when what our landlord said made no sense.
But yes. Furnace nearly blows up, heat gets shut off. Now by
Our landlord is in
The thing that really sucks is that they are going to completely get away with this shoddy treatment of us. We’re all tempted to bring in our parents and let them yell at him, mainly for the satisfaction of him getting yelled at by someone he may actually respect, but beyond that? The system is stacked against us. It’s ridiculous that we can be treated so shoddily with no real recourse. This guy keeps on taking advantage of us and there isn’t a huge amount we can do. Big stinking jerk.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Culture Shock
Class has officially started and so far, I'm very pleased with one of my classes. The other I'll have to see about. I like the professor, who is hideously cheesy and entertaining, but it seems like an immense amount of work. He has no qualms about assigning 5 pages of writing per class, and doubling the assignment for this week because he messed up in writing his syllabus and assigned homework for the class last week when we didn't actually get the syllabus until the class itself. So we have both for this week. I wish I could tell more about how he was going to be as a professor. Luckily the reading isn't incredibly page heavy, since it's a poetry class. The class I got shut out of I'm actually thinking might have been too much reading.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
I What?
I've been thinking a lot about people getting married/engaged. Not me. God knows, the last thing I need right now is a major change in my life. But the marriage of friends and people in general. Partly because I've decided that so many people around me are potentially setting themselves up for a failed marriage. Not that I really have a huge amount of right to say anything. But first of all. 18 year old? You don't know everything. You think you do. And I think that's a little sad and boring, and I hope you are wrong. I know many 18-year olds think they know everything (strangely, not a delusion I ever suffered from, aided probably by the fact that I haven't known what I want to do with my life since I was 9), which is in and of itself boring. Then one of my friends may or may not be expecting a proposal, which I disagree with for a number of reasons but which I won't go into here. Not because I can't nicely outline them, but because they didn't choose to put their life online, so I won't do that to them.
Also, I REALLY don't like people asking me when I'm going to get engaged. Yes, I know SB and I have been dating for forever, and most people do it because they care, but still. I am okay with the question from friends. Particularly good friends who are more asking about the status of my life. But adults with whom I have a fond, non-substantial relationship, not so much. I mean, what am I supposed to say? "Are you going to marry him?" If I say yes, then it's as if they are proposing for him and no one asks if someone loves someone else randomly and I just am not comfortable answering that personal of a question. I'm going to start asking married people if they are going to divorce their spouse.
I do have a theory about getting engaged. See, I think you can either get engaged before you enter the "we have issues and crap to work through" stage, or after you have worked through a good portion of said crap. And I don't want to be talked down to or pitied by those around me who are still in that obnoxious honeymoon stage of having dated for only a few months. Listen, we went through that, too, and you are going to have problems and you will have to deal with them, so stop acting like your relationship is better than mine because you don't know each other that well yet.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Take that, stupid hill!
And why is it a day of celebration? Well, for those of you who know me in real life, you know that my commute home is a bit difficult. I try and bike at least 3 of the 4 days a week I have to go in to DC (for either work or class). Going is a breeze. Under 15 minutes total biking time, all downhill except for the last tiny bit. Coming back, though... Coming back is over a mile of hillness. And not like intermittent hills where you go up for a while, and then you get a break going down. No. This is 1.2ish straight hill, where the only breaks you get are smaller inclines. There is like a 2 foot long incline, but really. That hardly counts. I have been unable to make it up this hill without at least 20 or so feet of walking. That is... until today. That's right. Today I made it from work all the way home without stopping (except for once at a stoplight, but since I'd rather not die getting hit by quickly moving cars, I hardly think that counts). I have conquered the hill. Next step, being one of the people who can ride all the way up relatively quickly, as opposed to my pathetic, here I am riding the bike at nearly walking pace and if I were going any slower, I'd fall. Of course, I can't guarantee that even making it all the way up the hill without stopping will be a regular thing for a while. But hey. You have to start somewhere.
As for the rest of things. Well school is insane. Mainly because I have paper proposals due soon, which means that on top of the usual crazy amounts of reading, I also have to do research for the proposals. I have one topic in mind, but the other... well I have the text picked out for the other and I know what I'd really like to write on, but I'm sure the prof won't go for it (Medieval myths as translated into modern culture, but I'm sure she wants us to focus on medieval myths in medieval times), so I must come up with something else.
Also, I am deeply upset. SB has gotten me watching Dr. Who, the new version. I enjoy the show. After all, it's a cute, nerdy British man leading a sci-fi life. BUT. SB recently informed me of something that is deeply disturbing. See, a whole premise of the show is that Dr. Who has helpers who travel with him, usually but not always female. They are human, they grow old, he does not. Therefore, he can't let himself fall in love with them. If he does, he has to let them go because he can't allow himself that emotional attachment. Very sad, I know. It's a part of his intrigue. But now SB informs me that he DID fall in love with one of his helpers. And was it the incredibly smart, well-educated black woman who is my favorite of all his helpers? Of course not. Is it the brunette with a penchant for technology? No. He freaking falls in love with the dumb blond. I mean, come on. If I see one more tv thing where the guys all fall for the dumb blond, I'll go nuts. I'd be fine with a smart blond, though I might still be a teensy bit bitter. It just makes me mad. Stupid tv writers. I'll go along with your raise when you stop making every love interest a Barbie doll. Oh! I thought of proof of me being okay with a smart blond. Chloe on Smallville. I adored Chloe and thought Clark was a moron for not being with her. Whereas Lana...not stupid, but not the brightest bulb either. So really. I think my problem is that I'm tired of being shown guys constantly falling for the dumb girls. I think weak men fall for dumb girls because they can't stand being challenged by a woman. Well, women writers, force them to be challenged! It's about time for the smart girls to step up and step out.
Friday, October 26, 2007
A mini tantrum
Instead I'll concentrate on the fact that two of my best friends from high school will be up here this weekend. They are so low key and fun and funny and great. They might just save my sanity.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Foodless
The first reason it is so sad and yet so good is that it completely plays into the societal and age-determined desire to just wander. To not have any kind of responsibilities, to just take off and experience life. It definitely has its appeal. Not that I in any way, shape, or form have the kind of personality that could deal well with being homeless, moneyless, and constantly dirty and hungry. But still. It's like On the Road. When we read that in my class in undergrad, everyone in the class wanted to take a road trip. Beyond that, I didn't particularly enjoy the book. But I wanted to hop on a train and eat nothing but apple pie for three months and sleeping on the floors of random people's apartments. Kind of. And there was something admirable in Alex Supertramp. He really didn't want to be materialistic. Or rather, he wasn't materialistic. He didn't want anything tying him down, and he managed to do some pretty cool stuff in the two years he was wandering around the country.
But then. There is apparently an ongoing debate on whether he was ill-prepared, wanted to die, what. No one really knows. But if he wanted to survive, and it seemed like he did at least from the portrayal in the movie, he was insanely unprepared. It seemed cocky. I mean, you don't go up into the wilds of Alaska with a small gun, a bag of rice, and a tent. I don't know much (although I think Survivor Man has definitely better equipped me for these kind of things.), but I'd have more than that. And he didn't think about the river rising, he didn't have a map, he didn't try and find another way out when the river blocked him off from the way he came. It's like he just gave up. Whether or not he wound up eating poisonous berries accidentally, he had time before that happened to try and get out. And why would you only take a single tiny book on vegetation when you are planning to live off the land? And you might want to do more than talk to a couple of people about hunting and how to skin and prepare animals. Because, as Survivorman has showed me, you can eat some pretty disgusting meat, as long as you have a fire to heat the crap out of it. Man Vs. Wild (who, as we know, is DEAD TO ME) has eaten maggots. It just frustrates me. It seems like such a waste for someone to die because of what? Because they were ill-prepared or cocky or... I don't know. There seem to be so many other things he could have done to save himself, pre-berry eating.
Also, the movie shows you him starving to death. It's pretty gruesome.
Which reminds me. I saw an even scarier "scary anorexic girl." She was awful. Her veins stuck out SO much. It was disgusting. And she was all sauntering when she walked, like she thought she looked so hot. I really wanted to stop her and be like, "PLEASE EAT SOMETHING. You don't look good so skinny." But I don't think that would work, since anorexia is horribly complicated. But still. Why would you want to do that to yourself?
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Farewell, Oreo
On the other hand, she was a good cat. I remember going to pick her up. We were in our old Subaru and she ran under the seats. I remember trying to name her (it was between Oreo and Socks; yes, we weren't very creative.), and her playing with wrapping paper at Christmas and her sleeping on my bed or giving my brother fleas... It won't quite be the same going home and not seeing her. Not hearing her and Felix fight. I wonder if Felix will be lonely now? So Oreo, I hope you are in kitty heaven (I'm not Catholic, I can believe in pet heaven if I want to), with lots of tuna fish and comfy chairs.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
A Course Description
My other course... is a bit frustrating. The texts are somewhat hard, mainly because they are all from freaking forever ago (I mean, like 1350 and stuff) and we have a rather different point of view. The main problem, though, is the responses. We have to write a response every other week on the texts in relation to an analytical article. Which is not that big a deal. Most classes require a response. But she wants a casual, highly thoughtful, analytical, but relatively short and not that big a deal response. Not like a whole paper, she says. Don't worry about being that formal. But then she keeps marking me off for not citing correctly or not having a bibliography (for the REQUIRED TEXTS!) or being too colloquial. She's worse than Manav and at least I was writing an official paper for him. This is just a response! I've talked to some other people in the class, and we all agree it's a bit nuts. Even second years, so it's not a "OMG, I'm in grad school" type thing.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Paranoia
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Worth more than a cookie.
I was at a party this weekend for one of my friends. A chocolate party, I might add, which is such a great idea. While I was there, I was struck by how different my church group of friends is from everyone else I know. Well, not everyone else. But a good portion. They are just so responsible, so having everything together. Plus they are all older and definitely further ahead in their career. So they either are thinking of or have bought a place, many are married (although not the people I'm closer to) and have kids... I'm not sure why there don't really seem to be any people at my stage of life at church. Maybe it's that no one my age goes to church? But that can't be entirely true.
Whatever the reason, it kind of puts me in a strange position. On the one hand, I'm young. I'm clearly not settled in my career, anywhere near thinking about buying a place, and definitely not comfortably well-off. (And my loans still haven't come through to my checkbook... fun stuff...) But on the other hand, I feel older than I am. I have for a while. But I look at the people around me closest to my age and... I don't know. It's not that I don't kind of understand their lifestyles and whatnot, but they just don't appeal to me. I mean, parts of them do. But I'm never going to be a person who wants to go out all the time, staying up till all hours of the night. I like going out, I like hanging out even better. But staying out until 3 in the morning on Friday means that a good portion of Saturday is going to be wasted while I sleep. I would love to be able to buy something, I'd rather spend the evening in a quiet wine bar or a local pub or something than a loud club. Or a coffee shop. I really like coffee shops.
On the other hand, all this trying to organize school stuff, house stuff, and personal stuff all at once makes me completely exhausted.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Exhaustion
So, you might be asking yourself, what has been keeping her so busy, too busy to get online and keep us all informed? Well, this was my quasi-first week of classes. I say quasi because only Monday, Thursday, and Friday classes met this week. I began with orientation, where I got shut out of all classes I was vaguely interested in but one, which apparently very few people want to take and which cost me a fortune in books, due to having to buy 13. 13! I went to the Joyce class I'm waitlisted for and which I'm losing hope of getting into, as I still have not heard about getting in, although who knows. People might go to class on Tuesday and decide to switch, in which case I shall jump on it and get in that class.
I have also been trying to find stuff which will somehow allow me to squish as much stuff as possible into a small room and small house without forcing either me or my roommates to live on hte porch or in such squalor that we all get really cranky and kill each other. This process has involved several trips to Target, one trip to Ikea, and much time and energy. Add to this all the walking I've been doing, and you get a collapse of me. Plus I lost an expensive ball of yarn, which upsets me.
However, Cassie seems to have transitioned all right, I'm now sleeping through the night, albeit with strange dreams in which teachers chase me for finding out that not only are they not gay, they are dating their high school students (he kissed her in front of an auditorium! We then all began singing somethign about it all in a round. It was odd. I now must go on a mad search for the last book for my medieval class, in order to read it by Tuesday so I can write a commentary by early Wednesday... And then I shall refuse to move for a few hours, followed by a happy hour and two picnics.
Monday, August 20, 2007
A Dark Fairy Tale
Anyways, missing the knitting was probably a good thing. OMG. That movie. I can't stop thinking about it. It was so bizarre and beautiful and horrible. It played with the differences between true life and fantasy, the ending reminding me of the ending of my favorite story that I wrote, meaning that you weren't quite sure what had happened. The people were either amazing, or completely awful, more evil than you can usually imagine. Or at least more evil than I want to think about people being. I did enjoy that the strongest characters were women, for the most part. The imagery was dark and sensuous and reminiscent of The Brothers Grimm, but with more meaning and depth.
The only problem with this whole movie (besides the gruesome imagery. I mean, really. I don't actually need to see someone whose mouth has been cut opened.) was that it has put my laziness and my curiosity opposite each other. I want to find the myths that this was based on, I want to see what the history is really like, I can't for the life of me remember the other movie made by the other Spanish director that was up for an Oscar... But then I'd actually have to do research and whatnot. We're going to ignore the ramifications this laziness might have on my career as a grad student...
Friday, August 17, 2007
Bike-y Goodness
Me? Cranky? Why do you ask?
But that is just a minor irritant, something that happens when I'm at home and forced to interact with people in the morning. No, I'm instead upset about something else entirely, something I'd rather not get into too much on here. Let's just say that if you purport to care about someone, and they email you about feelings and insecurities and whatnot? Freaking at least acknowledge that they told you something. Don't just ignore it because you don't want to deal with it. In fact, I'm going to say that one of the best ways to deal with email? Ask yourself if they said the same things to you in person, would you feel like you should respond. If the answer is yes, you should respond in some shape or form. Dumbass. (It's okay, he doesn't read this. Though I'd be okay if he did, because its about time for him to have learned these things by now. Such as treating significant others with common courtesy.) So now I have the song from Chicago in my head, the one where the Six Murderesses describe what they did. Mainly the line from the first woman, about "feeling REALLY irritated... so I fired two warning shots. Into his head." Yes, I can occasionally be frightening. Why do you ask?
In another completely innocuous turn, Kinder Surprises are apparently illegal in this country. For those of you unfamiliar with these, they are little chocolate eggs with toys inside. The toys are carefully encapsulated inside a plastic egg and they usually have tiny parts that you must put together. Apparently, our government, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that these eggs are too dangerous and may encourage small children to eat parts of their toys. Not the toys from the eggs, but toys in general. Parents, if your kids are small enough that they might be confused about what is and is not edible, you probably shouldn't be giving them things with small parts anyways. If they are old enough to know not to eat toys, but still might be confused about whether plastic is edible... you might have some bigger problems on your hands than Kinder Surprises. Besides, we combine food and toys all the time. Cereal? Cracker Jacks? All food known to have toys inside. And what about the candy that you can play with? How is that not more confusing? Is it a sucker, or a light saber? It's both! Play with your sword, then eat it! But beware the dangerous Kinder Surprises...
Monday, August 13, 2007
I guess I really am all grown up now...
Also, they are getting close to tearing down my elementary, which I agree with in theory. I mean, the building is old and has been condemned and whatnot. So teaching there is probably not such a great idea. The local university wants the land, I'm sure, and leaving it up for sentimentality's sake is a bit strange. But still. It's hard to imagine that now all the schools I attended as a child have either been torn down or drastically changed. I'm not sure what happened to my preschool, but every other school... Even my middle school and high school have now morphed into one and I've been told that the inside is nothing like what it was when I was there.
My most recent haircut seems to have reminded my church that I have moved out. It was strange. The last Sunday I was there, I think only the people who were friends with my parents or parents of my friends said anything to me. This time, I think I was more popular than the preacher. Some people had me four years younger than I am (So... you're in your last year of college now? Um. No. I graduated three years ago.), but at least they knew I was no longer around. Why a haircut would accomplish this, I have no idea. But whatever.
Also, my friend Brian currently has a picture up. I can't decide how I feel about this picture. See, his wife is pregnant which makes me so happy(!!!!) because I know they will be great parents. But the picture is of him holding the test in his hands, reading the positive sign. So a part of me is all excited for them. The other part of me? Is going ew. I mean, she peed on that. I know urine is an antiseptic, but still.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
A Not-so-fond Fairwell
So I'm on my way out. I'm quite excited about this. We all had a nice moment in the conference room that was horribly awkward. I'm really not good about being the center of attention at any point in time, much less in a room with 7 people, where one of the people has not said anything directly to me for a number of weeks (he still avoided it, for the most part) and where I harbor dislike for another. Still, I'll miss the other three (yes, 3+2+me only equals 6, but Pres' daughter is in today, so she makes 7. I'm rather neutral towards her.) I've cleaned my stuff up, filed everything I hadn't been filing for ages, and finished up the bits and pieces I had left. Now I'm just hanging out until I can leave. LEAVE!!! And then go home and take a few loads over to my new place. Ugh.
I shall also have to spend some time with Cassie. She's had a rough time lately. She ran into a glass door a few weeks ago, then ran into a wooden door, and then last night, she fell and bit her tongue. I think she bit it hard enough to make it bleed, which of course made me feel horrible even though there was little I could have done to prevent it.
And in another blast from the past, I myself friended the little sister of one of my old best friends. Her sister and I were always together for about 2 years solid. Our whole families were and somewhat are still friends. I feel bad because I tend to forget that there is another younger sister, who was too little for me to play with and who apparently made very little impression on my young mind. But the middle sister was frequently the third in our games. She got all the crap roles, though. And the blame for things that weren't her fault. We once blamed her for breaking a doll her sister was holding, because she tripped or distracted her or something. It was kind of funny, looking bad. She had to go apologize to my mom and was all in tears and she hadn't even done anything. Sigh. Good times. Of course, she's now threatening me with revealing pictures...