Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Something tells me other majors don't do this...

I had my last Senior Seminar today. The whole theme of the class this semester is Trauma and Memory, so needless to say, it's not the most uplifting stuff to talk about.
Each week we have discussion leaders. I, of course, was part of the last week (not by choice... it was a fluke). I like discussing things, but making up questions for people to discuss is really not my thing. The partner I had uses a lot of big words, and the questions she came up with had me wondering if we read the same book. I think that my brain is just completely fried.
The reading for today was about healing. Useful, judging that all of us are in need of some serious therapy following this class. However, my partner decided to open by reading an excerpt from an article about the day Emmit Till's mother had to identify her mutilated son's body...

Not exactly uplifting and hopeful...

I think that it sort of set an interesting tone for the session, because my questions ended up being a little less on the hopeful side, and a little more on the "How fucked up is this world we live in and there is no hope so let's all give up..."
I think my professor was a little upset.

As an ending to the semester, my professor had us do a ritual. Don't ask me what that means, because I had pretty much checked out by then.

We had to stand in a circle. I was scared we would have to hold hands, so I quickly tried to dry them as fast as possible, because my position as a discussion leader had left them sweaty and clammy. (I was always the girl in elementary school who got stuck with the boy who did not feel the need to wipe his sweaty hands before being paired with me for dance lessons or something. He was also the kid who wiped buggers on the back of his hand too... just a side note.)

Thankfully, there was no hand holding.

We stood in a circle and had to turn to the person on our right, one at a time, and say: So-and-so, I invite you into my space of resistance and affirmation. So my professor began: Josh, I invite you into my space of resistance and affirmation.

I forgot the kids name on my right...
Me: Hey!...
Guy: My name is Peter.
Me: I know! I was just trying to mix it up...
Peter: Yeah... whatever...
Me: Peter, I invite you into my space of... uh...
Girl Behind Me: Resistance and affirmation.
Me: I know... resistance and affirmation... Peter.

I don't think Peter likes me very much.

We then had to stand for a second and think of something in our life that we want to say "no" to. Some people said: I say "no" to fear... I say "no" to solving my problems with alcohol... I say "no" to self-doubt.

Me: I say "no" to hating myself.

We then had to take a deep breath, count to three, and say/scream, with passion and force, "NO!!!!" to that thing.

One, two, three... NO!

I should mention that one of the women in my class has a service dog (I'm not sure why... Joni, Mike and I came up with a scenario involving epilepsy, a torn ACL, social anxiety, and The Carver from Nip/Tuck), and this poor dog FREAKED OUT. He's this huge Mastiff mix, and the poor thing (who we invited into our space of resistance and affirmation) jumped into the middle of the circle (of resistance and affirmation), ears straight out, hair standing up on his back, and tail between his legs. Can you imagine...

DOGGY: Oh... it's so nice sleeping here in this lovely space of resistance and affirmation... what should I say when it's my turn to answer... well, mayb- WHAT THE HELL DID I DO???? WHY DID YOU ALL JUST SCREAM "NO" AT ME????

Ironic how our ritual to get past a semester of trauma and to begin healing caused this doggy severe, possibly lasting, trauma... sorry dude. (Mike says that this doggy is going to need a service dog of his own... Sophia?).

The next step of the ritual was to go around the circle and say "yes" to one thing that we want to let into our lives. Examples: I say "yes" to doing what makes me happy... I say "yes" to crossing boundaries and curiosity... I say "yes" to healing.

Me: I say "yes" to believing in myself.

One, two, three: YES!

DOGGY: Feminists are scary...

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

No Motivation

I have 14 minutes before my last class of the day starts. I have to go, because this is the last session before finals, but I don't want to. I have discovered that I have ZERO motivation to finish out my last week of classes or my last finals of college.
It helps that one of my professors is allowing me (well... anyone who takes his class pass/fail... I don't get special treatment or anything) to blow off the final. YIPPEEEEE! Thank god, because that would have meant that I had to read about 350 pages this week. Now I can focus on procrastinating my other work.
I am starting to freak out about graduating, though. I've decided to make up answers when I get asked the million dollar question: What are you doing after graduation?
Yesterday my answer was firefighter. Over the weekend I said that I was going to be a madam in a feminist brothel... the possibilities are endless. I think I might start a pool and keep track of how many times I am asked that question in the next month. Big money could be made.
Well... I have 8 minutes left.
We watched the Nuggets game last night with Mike's cousin Billy. Diane joined us later. I was fascinated by this one guy whose facial hair made one continuous line around his face. It obviously took impeccable precision and steady grooming hands... it's the little things in the world of sports that tickle me.
Maybe that will be my answer today: Basketball player facial artist.
If only it were true...
Shit! I'm late for class...

Monday, April 21, 2008

Second Shift

Mike saw this story on The Today Show where they said that women work an average of 7 hours on housework for every 1 hour their husbands work. This is what us Feminists call "the second shift". So, Mike sweetly said, "please stop me if that happens to us." I informed him that it pretty much already has, for which he apologized.
After dinner, I asked him if he would mind doing the dishes, since I unloaded the dishwasher and cooked dinner.
"Oh I see what you're doing here."
"You're just trying to get out of your 7 hours."

What a dork.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Doggies at my Feet / Dog-Doggies in my Bed

So I just finished my paper! Who-Rah.
I ate all of my gummy bears, so I no longer have them trapped in the freezer screaming at me. They are now happy in my tummy.
I like the way that the dogs lie at my feet while I'm typing. They don't do that for Mike as much. I think it's a mom thing. It happens every morning, too. When Mike gets up, the girls follow him and get fed, and then they come back to bed with me. If I get up first, they come get fed, and then stay in the living room or bathroom with me. Of course I was trying to sleep in this morning, and Bonnie decided to tell the whole neighborhood that she was miserable, so she barked and barked until I had to get up to make sure that there was no creepy guy peeing in our front yard (I don't know why... but there have been men urinating in our yard before, and I assume Bonnie would bark hysterically at that...). Of course, there was nothing there, and Bonnie was oh-so-happy that mom was up, so I just got up. Stupid dog luring me out of my cave...
I helped my mom and dad pack up the basement today. They are trying (again) to sell the house. I boxed up all of my old Disney VHS tapes to keep, and let all of my NSYNC and Spice Girl tapes go in the garage sale box (if you're interested, I'll cut you a deal!). Of course, VHS is almost completely obsolete, and will certainly be so when I have kids, but Mom and Dad insist I keep them. So now my children will have to watch these movies on an old VCR that Mom will have saved for all of these years rather than being able to watch the new, clearer, enhanced DVDs that are being re-released. They will either be harassed on the playground for their weird technology, or will be seen as retro and cool... only time will tell.
It wasn't very fair that I had to go clean all of my brother's crap out of the closets. I thought that he was probably at work, but then I realized that it's 4/20, and he's probably... not at work...
Oh well, the dogs got to play and eat dead animals (they found several mice... I didn't just feed them dead animals), and now they are exhausted at their mama's feet... That makes it worth it.
Maybe I'll break out the Mary Poppins VHS for a real crazy night...

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Talking Gummy Bears are in my Freezer...

I am so full from Gondolier spaghetti and bruschetta and calamari... but there are chocolate covered gummy bears in the freezer. Each little bear is calling my name (well, it's muffled, because the chocolate is covering up their little mouths... I'm starting to creep myself out). I want them, but know that I shouldn't eat them because my stomach is going to explode.
I'll wait another 30 minutes and see how I feel then.
By the way, gummy bears are amazing, especially frozen. But covered in chocolate, I think they are elevated to AMAZING. We got them at the candy shop(pe?) down on Pearl Street. That store is so much fun. I feel like... a kid in a candy shop... wow, sad metaphor (simile?). No, I feel like Hannah when we drop half a dozen balls on the ground and she doesn't know where to begin. Except the balls are chocolate covered. Or Bonnie when we tell her to shake, and then switch paws, and then switch back, and she gets so excited she starts jumping up and down and wiggling. Except instead of being excited about doing tricks, I'm excited that they have the candy bars that we would get at the gas station in Coogee. That's better...
I have to write my paper that is due on Monday. Actually, before I write that, I need to do the research to write it... hmm... what am I doing on here?

Still want gummy bears...

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Lefties are taking over the world!

So I was really bored in class, so I started to write. I have decided to post it here, because I figure that I would have posted it on here if I had my laptop. So here it is:

I have this professor who has a ponytail. A beard, ripped jeans, and oversized t-shirts. I'm actually sitting in his class right now. He's a sociologist, and a stereotypical one at that. You can actually picture him wrapping his arms around a tree and giving it a squeeze. I've got no problem with him... except his class blows. Maybe it's just me, but I don't really think anyone here is really paying any attention. There's a girl in front of me whose on facebook and IM. Now they're talking about Vegan fastfood and compostable coffee cups (he actually asked "Do you get free coffee for telling us this?"). I'm not learning anything in this class. Maybe it's because I'm 4 weeks away from graduation, or because I'm taking this pass/fail, or because I'm lazy. But when your professor says "I'm no expert... were on this journey together", it's kind of a turn-off (again, maybe it's just me... the girl in the front row with a bandanna and lip ring is nodding her head after every single word this guy says... But there's still six people cruising the web on their laptops).
I've had a cold... it was in my head and throat for a few days, and now it has moved to my sinuses. I swear, my brain feels like it is leaking out of my nose. But I can't sneeze, so I look like I'm crying about the "state of the world"... but I just want to sneeze, GOD DAMMIT. I'm basically depleting tissue resources at a rate of 1/5 minutes. Boulder will be in a tissue drought within a week if this keeps up.
40 minutes left in class...
OH! I just noticed that there were 2 left handed girls sitting in the front row... then I just say that Bandanna/Lip Ring girl is also a lefty... 3 lefties in a row... sounds like a nursery rhyme. Is this a sign? Holy shit! ANOTHER one behind them! And one sitting right in front of me... WHAT'S HAPPENING??? And another behind Bandanna girl... I've officially lost my mind and have entered an alternate universe...

So that's all I wrote today...
I just ate a mango. Now, I like the skin. I'm not sure why, but I do. So, I decided to look it up on the web. Can you eat mango skin? Well, I got answers that fall into two basic categories: Yes you can and you should and No you can't and it will kill you. Well, needless to say, I started to freak out. My throat feels constricted and my lips are tingling. And the back of my head itches. Is it me? The mango? The lefties poisoning me? So I called my mom:
"Can you eat the skin of a mango?"
"I don't think so... I'm not sure. But I wouldn't."
"Well... I already did!"
"Then why are you asking?"
"Because I might DIE!!!"
"Well, how do you feel?"
"Well, then I would lay off the mango skin... maybe wait about a month, and then slowly introduce it. Maybe you'll develop a tolerance. At least it's a lot of, you know, ruffage."
"Well, yeah... I guess."
So, Mom was pretty useless, so I called Dad:
"Can you eat the skin of a mango?"
"Sure you can! You'll get sick, but you can."
"Well, no. Probably not."
"Well, I already ate it! So don't tell me that!"
"Well, how do you feel?"
"That's just in your head. Call me if your vision starts to blur."
Dad is so caring.

Now my back itches and my calf itches and my ears tingle... crap... now my tear duct itches and my stomach hurts!!!!!!
Ok... talking (typing) myself over the ledge, huh?

One more story: I was driving and stopped at a red light. I looked in my rearview mirror and noticed a lighter go on. And then the driver TOOK A HIT... 10 seconds later, he took another! I called Mike:
"I'm at a red light and these two guys are in the truck behind me and the driver just took 2 hits of weed!"
"Seriously... we've been here less than a minute and their getting high... OH MY GOD! HE JUST TOOK ANOTHER HIT!!! 3 hits in less than 2 minutes!!"
"*laugh* When the light turns green, drive away really fast."
"Well, I better, because they'll probably come after me."
"Because I proabably look like a giant cheetoe!"
"No, you look like... well, your car is silver, so what's silver that you can eat?"
"I don't know... I'm not all high and shit!"

I drove away very fast...

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

A poem to Mike and I am sick

Mike don’t ride your bike

The lighting is coming

It will hit your bike


I love you and my bike,


Fuck a duck in my sinuses.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Don't Bother Reading this

Mike tells me that I have to write more, even if I don't have anything to write about, so here it is. As the heading suggests, there is going to be absolutely nothing of value in reading this, so don't bother (I feel a little like Eeyore saying that). What to write about...
I'm waiting for my oatmeal to be cooked. Not the microwave stuff, but the Steel Cut Oats that Oprah likes. They're pretty good, but it takes half an hour for a bowl. I've been sick since Saturday and still feel like crap. I should go to class, but I have all of this reading to do, so I might as well take one more day to heal and try to catch up. I always wait until the last minute to do stuff. I am the QUEEN of procrastination. Seriously. I have a paper due Friday, but still have to read one of the books it's on. My final paper for my Senior Seminar is due next Friday, and I haven't even checked out any sources. And I'll be gone all weekend in California. This sucks... it will be nice to be done with school for awhile.
I should also email my professors, but one of them thinks that the Internet (my autocheck on Firefox told me that Internet needs to be capitalized... a little full of ourselves, are we?) is the devil and I don't even know if he has email or checks it. That seems pretty stupid to me.
My oatmeal looks completely disgusting, but it better taste ok because I have no other food to eat.

Ok... I think that this is enough BS for today. Mike says that I should just get in the habit of writing as much as possible... even if it sucks. So, that's what this is.
If you made it this far, I bet you're thinking that you should have listened to me in the beginning and not bothered.