Another of my high school classmates has made the move towards prison. That's right, we have another felon in our midst, Penn graduates! Read about it here.
I had classes with that guy from grade school on up. It's weird to think that someone I was familiar with for all those years is capable of something so ugly and horrible--even if I did think he was an asshole, even back then. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but I can't help it.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Scholarship Hell
All day long I have been in scholarship hell. The deadline was today. I started yesterday. Can you see why I might be brain-fried? It was a 14 page application. On the web. With three essays and two essay questions. I had to scan in tax information. I had to scan in transcripts--high school AND college. I still feel like I'm not going to get this. In fact, I feel like I'm not even close.
I feel like these applications are designed to make people fall through the cracks, freak out, or give up. This, of course, is the opposite of help. Really, right now I just feel like a total failure. I'm not really sure why. I just feel like I can't really do anything right. When I submitted it, I felt a little better just because the weight was off of my shoulders, but I more or less just have a sinking feeling right now. The best way that I can describe it is to say that it's a terrible mixture of futility and despair. The whole ordeal makes me never want to try for a scholarship ever again. Mostly, though, I am really glad it's over. At least I can say that I tried.
I am, however, disappointed. A "faculty representative" was supposed to help me with this process. I was supposed to meet with them. Things were supposed to be much more official. Instead, I found all of my information out from a web page. I had no help at all in the process. I feel like I was shoved through the cracks so that the light of day couldn't even reach me.
All that this inspires me to do is write a letter to the Foundation in order to make sure that this doesn't happen to someone else. I mean, when a person gets a scholarship as large and prestigious as the one I have applied for, it makes that person's institution look good. So really, it doesn't just help me; it also helps my school. So why, oh why, would someone not do their best to try to make that scholarship into reality for a student here? It makes them look phenomenal and it helps me out--who loses?! All of Academia should be so great!
Alas, this is not the case. Good thing I can write a mean (and by that I mean outstanding) letter because I'm going to use that to my advantage. In fact, I have already started my draft. More to come as the situation unfolds.
I feel like these applications are designed to make people fall through the cracks, freak out, or give up. This, of course, is the opposite of help. Really, right now I just feel like a total failure. I'm not really sure why. I just feel like I can't really do anything right. When I submitted it, I felt a little better just because the weight was off of my shoulders, but I more or less just have a sinking feeling right now. The best way that I can describe it is to say that it's a terrible mixture of futility and despair. The whole ordeal makes me never want to try for a scholarship ever again. Mostly, though, I am really glad it's over. At least I can say that I tried.
I am, however, disappointed. A "faculty representative" was supposed to help me with this process. I was supposed to meet with them. Things were supposed to be much more official. Instead, I found all of my information out from a web page. I had no help at all in the process. I feel like I was shoved through the cracks so that the light of day couldn't even reach me.
All that this inspires me to do is write a letter to the Foundation in order to make sure that this doesn't happen to someone else. I mean, when a person gets a scholarship as large and prestigious as the one I have applied for, it makes that person's institution look good. So really, it doesn't just help me; it also helps my school. So why, oh why, would someone not do their best to try to make that scholarship into reality for a student here? It makes them look phenomenal and it helps me out--who loses?! All of Academia should be so great!
Alas, this is not the case. Good thing I can write a mean (and by that I mean outstanding) letter because I'm going to use that to my advantage. In fact, I have already started my draft. More to come as the situation unfolds.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Some Assorted Musings
What a title. Lame! Of course these are musings! It's a blog--the place online where people go to muse. Forgive me my inadequacies as far as titles go. The writing is bound to improve--it would have to, right?
Today was not so lame as I had expected. Classes went well. In ART 105 we watched a Bill Moyers documentary where an old man named Joseph Campbell talked about cave paintings and digressed into his opinions on the Catholic church and the denigration of society based on lack of rituals (just trust me when I say it was strange, awkward, and a perfect illustration of how the elderly can become judgmental and opinionated). In PSY 101, we talked about ADHD and the nervous system. We also did a few kind of fun activities. I feel like all the things we've talked about in PSY 101 so far are concept reviews that I've already delved into in other classes like Lifespan Psychology, Anatomy and Physiology--I and II--and even Statistics. However, I like my instructor, so I'm chalking it up to being okay.
The GSA meeting went well also. It was productive. There were plenty of people there. We had a fun time just sitting and chatting afterward. It was good! Plus, I had to revel in the irony that the advisor of an organization whose sole purpose is to promote tolerance among others told Nick and I to "try to hate." (As a general disclaimer and lest you think we do not serve our organizational purpose, I would like to tell you that this was in relation to a very specific and personal topic related to a specific person with whom Nick and I are both acquainted. Despite our best efforts, we are starting to like this person and neither of us seem to know how we feel about that. I want to hate him, but I seem to be unable to which is strange for me, as I am so very good at hating and holding grudges. I'm starting to feel that my open-mindedness is becoming a personal failure--haha, just kidding! I jest, I jest!)
Tonight, though, as I perused Facebook I came to realize something: there are people that I never thought I would fall away from that I don't even think about anymore. I know, this is not a shocking revelation to most people, but I was stopping to consider what that might mean for us. I mean, these are people that I considered some of my best friends, family even. As I chose to hide some of them from my news feed, I paused and thought, "Wow. I remember when I called these people on the regular just because. Now, I don't even want to see what they might possibly have to say in a two sentence status update? How sad is that!"
I suppose, more than anything, I find it slightly depressing. I know that people lose touch, move, make the conscious choice to stop talking, etc. It doesn't make it easier to face the reality that those people aren't important to you anymore or, more importantly if you're egotistical like me, that you're not important to those people anymore. It's the natural order, but sometimes it just hits you that the nature of society as we see it today is somewhat transitory--we expect people to come in and out of our lives. Can you imagine a time when you lived in a village and those people were the people that you had in your life for your whole life? Can you imagine what it would be like to have that kind of historical connection, human connection? I think we take for granted that that must have been a reality.
It's interesting to think that this world gets so impersonal. In an age when communication should be so much easier--what with the Internet, wireless phones, skype, etc--we seem to be growing further apart. Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton kept their friendship alive for years based solely on their written correspondences--which, by the way, I'm sure moved much more slowly than they do today. Julia Child kept a pen pal while she lived in France who ended up helping her to publish her initial work, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Why is it that now, when communication is much much easier and faster than the methods of yesteryear, are we having problems communicating?
Maybe this is just me. Maybe these people really weren't my friends at all, and all of this is just the disappointment of a twenty-something woman who is becoming disillusioned with the loss of her childhood companions in favor of a new set of friends. Maybe it's really a mitzvah because I have better, more intelligent friends who are much more on my level than some of those old high school friends. It's a little early for me to tell. Mostly, I just find myself stunned that people can grow so far apart in an age where one needs only pick up a cell phone, engage in a chat, shoot of a quick text, or type out a fast e-mail to keep in touch. It should be so easy, but it's not. Why is that?
Does this bother anyone else?
Today was not so lame as I had expected. Classes went well. In ART 105 we watched a Bill Moyers documentary where an old man named Joseph Campbell talked about cave paintings and digressed into his opinions on the Catholic church and the denigration of society based on lack of rituals (just trust me when I say it was strange, awkward, and a perfect illustration of how the elderly can become judgmental and opinionated). In PSY 101, we talked about ADHD and the nervous system. We also did a few kind of fun activities. I feel like all the things we've talked about in PSY 101 so far are concept reviews that I've already delved into in other classes like Lifespan Psychology, Anatomy and Physiology--I and II--and even Statistics. However, I like my instructor, so I'm chalking it up to being okay.
The GSA meeting went well also. It was productive. There were plenty of people there. We had a fun time just sitting and chatting afterward. It was good! Plus, I had to revel in the irony that the advisor of an organization whose sole purpose is to promote tolerance among others told Nick and I to "try to hate." (As a general disclaimer and lest you think we do not serve our organizational purpose, I would like to tell you that this was in relation to a very specific and personal topic related to a specific person with whom Nick and I are both acquainted. Despite our best efforts, we are starting to like this person and neither of us seem to know how we feel about that. I want to hate him, but I seem to be unable to which is strange for me, as I am so very good at hating and holding grudges. I'm starting to feel that my open-mindedness is becoming a personal failure--haha, just kidding! I jest, I jest!)
Tonight, though, as I perused Facebook I came to realize something: there are people that I never thought I would fall away from that I don't even think about anymore. I know, this is not a shocking revelation to most people, but I was stopping to consider what that might mean for us. I mean, these are people that I considered some of my best friends, family even. As I chose to hide some of them from my news feed, I paused and thought, "Wow. I remember when I called these people on the regular just because. Now, I don't even want to see what they might possibly have to say in a two sentence status update? How sad is that!"
I suppose, more than anything, I find it slightly depressing. I know that people lose touch, move, make the conscious choice to stop talking, etc. It doesn't make it easier to face the reality that those people aren't important to you anymore or, more importantly if you're egotistical like me, that you're not important to those people anymore. It's the natural order, but sometimes it just hits you that the nature of society as we see it today is somewhat transitory--we expect people to come in and out of our lives. Can you imagine a time when you lived in a village and those people were the people that you had in your life for your whole life? Can you imagine what it would be like to have that kind of historical connection, human connection? I think we take for granted that that must have been a reality.
It's interesting to think that this world gets so impersonal. In an age when communication should be so much easier--what with the Internet, wireless phones, skype, etc--we seem to be growing further apart. Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton kept their friendship alive for years based solely on their written correspondences--which, by the way, I'm sure moved much more slowly than they do today. Julia Child kept a pen pal while she lived in France who ended up helping her to publish her initial work, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Why is it that now, when communication is much much easier and faster than the methods of yesteryear, are we having problems communicating?
Maybe this is just me. Maybe these people really weren't my friends at all, and all of this is just the disappointment of a twenty-something woman who is becoming disillusioned with the loss of her childhood companions in favor of a new set of friends. Maybe it's really a mitzvah because I have better, more intelligent friends who are much more on my level than some of those old high school friends. It's a little early for me to tell. Mostly, I just find myself stunned that people can grow so far apart in an age where one needs only pick up a cell phone, engage in a chat, shoot of a quick text, or type out a fast e-mail to keep in touch. It should be so easy, but it's not. Why is that?
Does this bother anyone else?
Thursday, January 14, 2010
An Addition
I'm not entirely sure how, but my day got to looking up after going to Philosophy class. Believe me, this was something that I did not expect. I guess I can find merit in a person who at least admits their arrogance. It's a step in the right direction.
In another unexpected twist, I mentioned to said instructor that Facebook suggested we kindle a friendship due to the presence of mutual friends. This instructor thought it was a splendid idea and asked me to add him! I am not only surprised that he was interested in being e-friends, but also surprised at the haste with which he approved my friend request. I was also surprised that he complimented one of my ideas as being great and worth sharing with my fellow students. (I suppose this shouldn't surprise me. People laud me as being brilliant all the time. Perhaps what should surprise me is that I haven't started to believe them yet.)
Apart from that, I'm just putting off homework--namely, reading chapters in SOC 220--and sitting at work. I suppose I shouldn't put it off any longer.
In another unexpected twist, I mentioned to said instructor that Facebook suggested we kindle a friendship due to the presence of mutual friends. This instructor thought it was a splendid idea and asked me to add him! I am not only surprised that he was interested in being e-friends, but also surprised at the haste with which he approved my friend request. I was also surprised that he complimented one of my ideas as being great and worth sharing with my fellow students. (I suppose this shouldn't surprise me. People laud me as being brilliant all the time. Perhaps what should surprise me is that I haven't started to believe them yet.)
Apart from that, I'm just putting off homework--namely, reading chapters in SOC 220--and sitting at work. I suppose I shouldn't put it off any longer.
First-Week-Back Impressions
I have survived my first week of classes successfully--this first week, of course, having officially ended today. I feel that I will enjoy many of my classes. So, for the sake of my own personal satisfaction, I'll break them down below.
PHL 101 or Introduction to Philosophy: I feel that this class will benefit me because it will make me think. I will begrudgingly admit that the instructor is attractive, charismatic, and humorous, all qualities which somewhat irk me about him--not because I dislike him, but because I dislike his arrogance. (A large part of me feels that arrogant people should be boring and unlikable, which would make their arrogance more unfortunate. Sadly, this is not the case with my instructor.) I'm not sure how I feel about this class yet. What I can say is that many of the younger and less intellectually developed students are incredibly taken with the instructor, which makes me feel a little bit like the awkward, hateful hag in the corner for not finding him nearly as amusing as they do. Plus, I don't like the effect that all this has on me. I tend to sit back in this class with a wry smile and count myself as better than my fellow students, which is not an attractive behavior, even to me. In my defense, one should never trust a man who says things like, "We're just too tolerant here in America today!" (Yes, that's right, he actually said that.)
ART 105 or History of Western Art: I already love this class! The subject matter is interesting, I have learned a great deal about art already, and I am able to parlay some of my basic artistic knowledge into a cogent class discussion on the merits of a piece. I'm looking forward to applying what I learn here to other things. The only thing I regret about taking this class is taking it at 8 AM on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The room is dark for better slide viewing, the instructor's voice is soft and soothing, and no amount of coffee in the morning has the ability to make me wakeful. It's a good thing I'm interested, otherwise I'd be out like a light!
PSY 101 or General Psychology: I've only had this class once thus far, but I'm looking forward to it. My instructor seems like an intelligent, no nonsense, involved woman. She's willing to work with her students, but she expects us to do our fair share. I can respect that. We did a pretty cool activity about how our time is spent throughout the course of the week. Turns out, as suspected, I don't get nearly enough sleep (I know you're shocked! "College student lacks sleep," what breaking news!) I think this class will be fun. This instructor reminds me of one of my favorite high school instructors, Mrs. Gray.
HUM 275 or World Religions: I'm pretty interested in this class. The instructor isn't heavy-handed with his information. He's pretty laid back and nonjudgmental. He presents things in a very interesting way and seems to be very knowledgeable about the topic. Our first unit will be on Hinduism, which should prove to be interesting. We're going to be covering Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Confucianism, Taoism, Buddhism, and Hinduism. I feel like this will be a way to become more worldly.
SOC 220 or Multicultural Diversity: This is a class that I'm really excited about. At first, I was a little bit nervous. I was on a budget committee with the instructor and, based on that, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about her in the classroom. After the first day, I wasn't sure why I had any doubts. I think her class is going to be an eye-opening experience regarding the way other people think. I'm kind of excited about it. Plus, the best quote from my entire week came from her class when she said, in reference to the difference between gender and sex, "Because I might have a penis, you don't know!"
As for returning to work this week, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. I still feel as thought I have somehow become low man on the totem pole--in fact I'm pretty sure that was the wording I used in the last post, even! I'm just moody. I feel like there's an implication that I'm stupid in every over-explanation of things that I've been doing for the past four semesters. There are questions that I've been answering longer than my bosses have been my bosses, and they are attempting to explain to me rudimentary functions of my job. Small changes to processes do not require a re-explanation of the whole process!
I'm not sure whether to chalk my recent pissiness up to being broke, PMS, lack of sleep, the start of the recent semester, or a general dissatisfaction with my current circumstance. Either way, it's not serving any one well, and yet I don't have any idea how to change it. To be fair, I haven't exactly been putting as much energy towards fixing the problem as I have towards perpetuating it, though. It's just easier to be angry. And, quite honestly, I kind of need some time to just be angry. I feel as though there's never any time for me to just be in a bad mood and have that time to get over it. It's terribly irritating.
At any rate, I'll get over it. I just feel like being angry for a while. This, of course, could go poorly in Philosophy class today. If I fly off the handle at the poor man, I don't think I'll be terribly surprised about it.
PHL 101 or Introduction to Philosophy: I feel that this class will benefit me because it will make me think. I will begrudgingly admit that the instructor is attractive, charismatic, and humorous, all qualities which somewhat irk me about him--not because I dislike him, but because I dislike his arrogance. (A large part of me feels that arrogant people should be boring and unlikable, which would make their arrogance more unfortunate. Sadly, this is not the case with my instructor.) I'm not sure how I feel about this class yet. What I can say is that many of the younger and less intellectually developed students are incredibly taken with the instructor, which makes me feel a little bit like the awkward, hateful hag in the corner for not finding him nearly as amusing as they do. Plus, I don't like the effect that all this has on me. I tend to sit back in this class with a wry smile and count myself as better than my fellow students, which is not an attractive behavior, even to me. In my defense, one should never trust a man who says things like, "We're just too tolerant here in America today!" (Yes, that's right, he actually said that.)
ART 105 or History of Western Art: I already love this class! The subject matter is interesting, I have learned a great deal about art already, and I am able to parlay some of my basic artistic knowledge into a cogent class discussion on the merits of a piece. I'm looking forward to applying what I learn here to other things. The only thing I regret about taking this class is taking it at 8 AM on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The room is dark for better slide viewing, the instructor's voice is soft and soothing, and no amount of coffee in the morning has the ability to make me wakeful. It's a good thing I'm interested, otherwise I'd be out like a light!
PSY 101 or General Psychology: I've only had this class once thus far, but I'm looking forward to it. My instructor seems like an intelligent, no nonsense, involved woman. She's willing to work with her students, but she expects us to do our fair share. I can respect that. We did a pretty cool activity about how our time is spent throughout the course of the week. Turns out, as suspected, I don't get nearly enough sleep (I know you're shocked! "College student lacks sleep," what breaking news!) I think this class will be fun. This instructor reminds me of one of my favorite high school instructors, Mrs. Gray.
HUM 275 or World Religions: I'm pretty interested in this class. The instructor isn't heavy-handed with his information. He's pretty laid back and nonjudgmental. He presents things in a very interesting way and seems to be very knowledgeable about the topic. Our first unit will be on Hinduism, which should prove to be interesting. We're going to be covering Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Confucianism, Taoism, Buddhism, and Hinduism. I feel like this will be a way to become more worldly.
SOC 220 or Multicultural Diversity: This is a class that I'm really excited about. At first, I was a little bit nervous. I was on a budget committee with the instructor and, based on that, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about her in the classroom. After the first day, I wasn't sure why I had any doubts. I think her class is going to be an eye-opening experience regarding the way other people think. I'm kind of excited about it. Plus, the best quote from my entire week came from her class when she said, in reference to the difference between gender and sex, "Because I might have a penis, you don't know!"
As for returning to work this week, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. I still feel as thought I have somehow become low man on the totem pole--in fact I'm pretty sure that was the wording I used in the last post, even! I'm just moody. I feel like there's an implication that I'm stupid in every over-explanation of things that I've been doing for the past four semesters. There are questions that I've been answering longer than my bosses have been my bosses, and they are attempting to explain to me rudimentary functions of my job. Small changes to processes do not require a re-explanation of the whole process!
I'm not sure whether to chalk my recent pissiness up to being broke, PMS, lack of sleep, the start of the recent semester, or a general dissatisfaction with my current circumstance. Either way, it's not serving any one well, and yet I don't have any idea how to change it. To be fair, I haven't exactly been putting as much energy towards fixing the problem as I have towards perpetuating it, though. It's just easier to be angry. And, quite honestly, I kind of need some time to just be angry. I feel as though there's never any time for me to just be in a bad mood and have that time to get over it. It's terribly irritating.
At any rate, I'll get over it. I just feel like being angry for a while. This, of course, could go poorly in Philosophy class today. If I fly off the handle at the poor man, I don't think I'll be terribly surprised about it.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
And A Happy New Year!
After a much needed hiatus from school and responsibility, I find myself much refreshed! I made it through finals week unscathed (though my final exam grade in chemistry could have been better...) and I am happy to report that I had another 4.0 semester. JJ and I spent some time in Indiana with his family. We have managed to actually see my twin brother for once as well! (Normally, he's in town and we're out of it. This time, he has stayed for an extended period, and we've been able to actually see him and spend time with him. It's been nice.) We definitely needed some time away from responsibility and school. It was nice to have a break.
We even had minimal drama over the holiday season. Though, it does make me laugh to know that one of JJ's aunts has declared her hatred for me. She didn't speak to me and spoke only ONE sentence to poor JJ at Christmas. Now, personally, I can understand how some people might not like me. I hold people to high standards and I expect them to live up to them. I have absolutely no problem telling people what I think, even if those thoughts might not be well received. I have no problem being "the bad guy." I can see how those things might not go over well with some people. However, those would all be things that a person would have to figure out about me after at least spending a little bit of time getting to know me.
JJ's aunt has never gotten to know me. She has never sat down with me and had an actual conversation. I doubt she would even know my last name if not for the fact that it is the same as my husband's. She knows absolutely nothing about me. She doesn't know when my birthday is, what kind of pie I like, my opinions on government, my favorite books. She doesn't know what brought JJ and I together, how long we've been together, why we decided to get married or how long we plan to live with my parents. The list of things that she doesn't know about myself and my husband could fill volumes. This is one of the reasons that I find it HILARIOUS that she doesn't like me. She doesn't even know me.
Moreover, JJ has been happier with me than he has ever been in his life. That alone should make her like me a little bit, even if she doesn't love me personally. She should at least have respect for the fact that I make her nephew happy, that he's been more motivated to do something with his life since he's been with me and around me. She isn't even happy for him that he's graduating college this semester--something that no one else in their family has ever done before. To me, it's a big deal. Above all else, he's still her blood. She can hate me all she wants to--even though we all know it's just because she's intimidated that I'm smarter and better than her and her children--but she does still owe my husband some respect. At the VERY least. Plus, if she's going to hold grudges against me for a simple request I made of her last Christmas--about which I consulted the rest of the family BEFORE opening my mouth--then she's just being petty. I was respectful and spoke to her one-on-one. If she doesn't like me, she could at least be adult enough to show me the same courtesy.
All I can say on this front is that I truly think it's funny. It delights me that she's wasting energy on hating me because, at the end of the day, she's still thinking about me, which means I win.
In other news, things are still a little bit tense at home. Incomes are tight, money is not coming in. My friend Kurt would refer to this as "standing under the economy, waiting for the trickle down--obviously, this will be quite some time." (I might Facebook that as my status tomorrow. I find it quietly brilliant.) Obviously, this creates tension and attitudes. JJ and I are actively seeking out an apartment now. Living here has become much too much of a strain on our relationship and our self-esteem. It's a little too complicated here, and our nerves are shot from years of anxiety attacks anyways. We kinda can't take it any more.
I'm feeling pretty good about starting school again, though. This will be my last semester at Owens as well as JJ's last semester. JJ graduates this semester and I transfer to Lourdes. I'm excited about moving upwards. My books--save one--are purchased and supplies are set to go. I'm ready for this semester to get started! I think JJ feels the same way. I think he's ready to get out into the real world. At any rate, I'm ready to be doing something with my brain again. I enjoy learning. I enjoy having something to put my mind to. It's nice to have something to focus on to keep the boredom at bay.
As for starting work, I'm incredulous. I feel like I was the go-to girl, but somehow I'm not anymore. I don't want to make a big deal about feeling this way, but I really don't like not being able to feel confident in my position and the people around me. More than that, I almost feel like there are things that everyone else knows that I don't. As though there's been some news broadcast--Jessica Platz, student worker, falls from grace! Find out the story tonight at 11!--and I was the only one who slept through it instead of watching. I just don't feel good about it right now. Not at all. My long term plan is to keep my head down and my mouth shut though, though both of those are things that I am not terribly good at. Apart from that, I guess we'll see how the semester plays out.
The good thing about this break is that I've had plenty of time to read to keep my mind focused on other things than how unsteady I feel about my position in the world. I read a really great Janet Fitch book that I would highly recommend to anyone called Paint it Black. Seriously, pick it up. She gets the despair just right in her writing. It's wonderful. It makes you feel.
As for right now, I'm going to get my school supplies and books together for tomorrow and spend the rest of the evening reading a book. Maybe the husband and I will watch a film. At any rate, it will be relaxing.
We even had minimal drama over the holiday season. Though, it does make me laugh to know that one of JJ's aunts has declared her hatred for me. She didn't speak to me and spoke only ONE sentence to poor JJ at Christmas. Now, personally, I can understand how some people might not like me. I hold people to high standards and I expect them to live up to them. I have absolutely no problem telling people what I think, even if those thoughts might not be well received. I have no problem being "the bad guy." I can see how those things might not go over well with some people. However, those would all be things that a person would have to figure out about me after at least spending a little bit of time getting to know me.
JJ's aunt has never gotten to know me. She has never sat down with me and had an actual conversation. I doubt she would even know my last name if not for the fact that it is the same as my husband's. She knows absolutely nothing about me. She doesn't know when my birthday is, what kind of pie I like, my opinions on government, my favorite books. She doesn't know what brought JJ and I together, how long we've been together, why we decided to get married or how long we plan to live with my parents. The list of things that she doesn't know about myself and my husband could fill volumes. This is one of the reasons that I find it HILARIOUS that she doesn't like me. She doesn't even know me.
Moreover, JJ has been happier with me than he has ever been in his life. That alone should make her like me a little bit, even if she doesn't love me personally. She should at least have respect for the fact that I make her nephew happy, that he's been more motivated to do something with his life since he's been with me and around me. She isn't even happy for him that he's graduating college this semester--something that no one else in their family has ever done before. To me, it's a big deal. Above all else, he's still her blood. She can hate me all she wants to--even though we all know it's just because she's intimidated that I'm smarter and better than her and her children--but she does still owe my husband some respect. At the VERY least. Plus, if she's going to hold grudges against me for a simple request I made of her last Christmas--about which I consulted the rest of the family BEFORE opening my mouth--then she's just being petty. I was respectful and spoke to her one-on-one. If she doesn't like me, she could at least be adult enough to show me the same courtesy.
All I can say on this front is that I truly think it's funny. It delights me that she's wasting energy on hating me because, at the end of the day, she's still thinking about me, which means I win.
In other news, things are still a little bit tense at home. Incomes are tight, money is not coming in. My friend Kurt would refer to this as "standing under the economy, waiting for the trickle down--obviously, this will be quite some time." (I might Facebook that as my status tomorrow. I find it quietly brilliant.) Obviously, this creates tension and attitudes. JJ and I are actively seeking out an apartment now. Living here has become much too much of a strain on our relationship and our self-esteem. It's a little too complicated here, and our nerves are shot from years of anxiety attacks anyways. We kinda can't take it any more.
I'm feeling pretty good about starting school again, though. This will be my last semester at Owens as well as JJ's last semester. JJ graduates this semester and I transfer to Lourdes. I'm excited about moving upwards. My books--save one--are purchased and supplies are set to go. I'm ready for this semester to get started! I think JJ feels the same way. I think he's ready to get out into the real world. At any rate, I'm ready to be doing something with my brain again. I enjoy learning. I enjoy having something to put my mind to. It's nice to have something to focus on to keep the boredom at bay.
As for starting work, I'm incredulous. I feel like I was the go-to girl, but somehow I'm not anymore. I don't want to make a big deal about feeling this way, but I really don't like not being able to feel confident in my position and the people around me. More than that, I almost feel like there are things that everyone else knows that I don't. As though there's been some news broadcast--Jessica Platz, student worker, falls from grace! Find out the story tonight at 11!--and I was the only one who slept through it instead of watching. I just don't feel good about it right now. Not at all. My long term plan is to keep my head down and my mouth shut though, though both of those are things that I am not terribly good at. Apart from that, I guess we'll see how the semester plays out.
The good thing about this break is that I've had plenty of time to read to keep my mind focused on other things than how unsteady I feel about my position in the world. I read a really great Janet Fitch book that I would highly recommend to anyone called Paint it Black. Seriously, pick it up. She gets the despair just right in her writing. It's wonderful. It makes you feel.
As for right now, I'm going to get my school supplies and books together for tomorrow and spend the rest of the evening reading a book. Maybe the husband and I will watch a film. At any rate, it will be relaxing.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Procrastination!
As we speak, I am putting off what I could be doing right now. Mostly because I just can't seem to gather my thoughts. And, as the old saying goes, "Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?"
My teeth (or lack thereof) and jaw are feeling much better today. Only one of the sockets is still a little on the ache-y side. My head is much clearer. School is going well so far. Finals are next week, so I'm a little freaked out about that. I feel like I still have so much to do--like the pharmaceutical project I'm putting off in lieu of screwing around on the Internet and arbitrarily wasting my time. In my defense, however, Percocet--while fun to take--is crap to write about.
I just finished reading Julie & Julia by Julie Powell this morning. I have to say, I enjoyed it immensely! My aunt, Maria, awesome woman that she is, lent it to me. She's witty in a way that makes her reader think, "Oh my God, me too!" as they progress through her novel. I loved every page of it. In fact, I am seriously considering purchasing her second book, Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession.
The interesting effect that Julie Powell has on me is that she makes me want to cook. This, of course, is thwarted by the fact that (1) I don't cook for my family because they are never grateful for it, (2) I don't cook for others because it never ends up being worth the stress, and (3) I don't particularly like the heat and the movement and the effort all for something someone else is just going to scarf down without even noticing. Mostly, I think it's due to the kinship that I feel for Julie Powell. I'm certain that I would never be able to get that across in a conversation with her without seeming the creepy stalker.
At any rate, a renewed focus is necessary. My sleepy husband is getting pissy with me, which I have little patience for. Plus, I'd kind of like to sleep at some point.
My teeth (or lack thereof) and jaw are feeling much better today. Only one of the sockets is still a little on the ache-y side. My head is much clearer. School is going well so far. Finals are next week, so I'm a little freaked out about that. I feel like I still have so much to do--like the pharmaceutical project I'm putting off in lieu of screwing around on the Internet and arbitrarily wasting my time. In my defense, however, Percocet--while fun to take--is crap to write about.
I just finished reading Julie & Julia by Julie Powell this morning. I have to say, I enjoyed it immensely! My aunt, Maria, awesome woman that she is, lent it to me. She's witty in a way that makes her reader think, "Oh my God, me too!" as they progress through her novel. I loved every page of it. In fact, I am seriously considering purchasing her second book, Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession.
The interesting effect that Julie Powell has on me is that she makes me want to cook. This, of course, is thwarted by the fact that (1) I don't cook for my family because they are never grateful for it, (2) I don't cook for others because it never ends up being worth the stress, and (3) I don't particularly like the heat and the movement and the effort all for something someone else is just going to scarf down without even noticing. Mostly, I think it's due to the kinship that I feel for Julie Powell. I'm certain that I would never be able to get that across in a conversation with her without seeming the creepy stalker.
At any rate, a renewed focus is necessary. My sleepy husband is getting pissy with me, which I have little patience for. Plus, I'd kind of like to sleep at some point.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Thanksgiving Weekend and a Lack of Witty Titles
My week has been a long one, Reader. First, I had school and work on Monday. However, blissfully, we didn't have any classes for the rest of the week. In fact, the campus is closed until this coming Monday. Unfortunately, as I may have previously mentioned, I was scheduled for a wisdom tooth extraction on Tuesday morning--the 24th, for those keeping track.
Loyal to my word, I didn't eat or drink after midnight the night before. I showered and brushed my teeth the morning of and took my two Valium with a sip of water as required. (I mentioned that I was freaked out at the idea of surgery, the doctor handed me a prescription. What ever happened to calming words? Better living through chemistry, I suppose.) When we got to the office, I was feeling pretty damned mellow. In fact, I can easily see how so many people can enjoy Valium. You're coherent. There's no drug fog. You just don't really care about much of anything. There's no anxiety. There's no feeling. You just kinda are.
I was hooked up to several annoying, beeping machines. I was left in the room with my husband. The doctor finally came in and tried to get a vein so they could give me the sodium pentathol. First, I have to mention that his technique was awful. For a man who spends much of his time giving injections, he was really really bad at finding my vein. In fact, he did the worst thing ever, which was smack the spots on my arms and hands that he was trying to find them. Other than the amazing ability to piss off a patient, this technique also boasts the joy of actually making veins HARDER to find. Smart, doc. Somewhere after that injection, I recall something being fitted over my face. After that, I don't recall.
What I do recall, however, is waking up during the procedure to intense pain. I was waking up while they were still pulling teeth!! With fingers and instruments in my mouth, I couldn't do much other than moan, but it was enough to get the message across. I couldn't really open my eyes. I heard them tell me that I was doing great and that it was almost over--is that just something people tell you in the midst of pain? I distinctly recall having heard those words associated with childbirth as well--and then I was waking up later. I recall asking to see my teeth and being told that someone else already took them out of the room. (Hell, I figure if I had to pay $1400 to have them removed, the least you could do is show the bitches to me, right?!) Then, I was being walked to a recovery room.
I was surprisingly awake afterward. My mouth was numb, which all the nurses and people knew, and yet they insisted on asking me questions. Really? How in the hell do you expect me to respond when I can't feel my tongue and my mouth is stuffed with cotton?! But, you make the requisite noises in response and the struggle to understand what you said that ensues you have the misfortune of trying to find vaguely comical somehow. I bled for the rest of the day, but I slept pretty damned well.
The pain hasn't been that bad. The doctor gave me percocet, roxan, and clindamycin to have filled before the day of the surgery. All I had to do was take them when I got home. He also gave me an additional prescription for darvocet. I was thinking they were crazy during the first few days because the pain wasn't bad enough to warrant another round of narcotics. Now, however, I think I'm changing my mind. The pain is a little bit worse, but it's not the sockets themselves. It's all the surrounding tissues. Even my sinuses ache. I'm a little worried about dry socket, which doesn't seem to be happening, but I'll worry until I know more because that's just how I am. At any rate, if the pain doesn't significantly lessen by the time Tuesday rolls back around, I'll be calling their offices. As it stands, ice packs and heat are helping, so I'm not too worked up about it.
Thanksgiving wasn't all that bad. I had anticipated that things would be much much worse. My father had been angry with the family for a few days before. I don't blame him. Things get too crazy around here. But, of course, because he was upset, they had to be upset too. Then, we play the game where we try to pull everyone else into the middle. Mostly, I just don't care to hear it. I get really tired of the attitudes. I work too hard to have to put up with the bullshit.
My twin came into town as well as my great aunt and uncle, who we call Grandma Linda and Grandpa Jack--we've always called them that. It wasn't that bad. Things were a little rough at first, but by dinner people were warming up to each other. All in all, we had a nice time. The food was good, though I may have overdone it, being fresh out of surgery like I was. I should have avoided the turkey and focused more attention on the potatoes.
The tension at least dissipated. Things just get a little crowded around here. They spend so much time around each other that eventually they just want to blow up about it. The only thing that JJ and I have going for us here is that we get out of the house regularly. We have obligations and things that keep us occupied, so when we're home, we tend to appreciate the fact that we're home a little more. The rest of them not having jobs--save my twin, of course, who is down at college the rest of the year--just puts them around each other too much. They just need to stick to their separate corners more often...or at least, more often around family holidays when feelings are already strained.
The only good thing to come of being post-op in the midst of family warfare was that I got to use the phrase, "Seriously, guys, stop it. You're ruining my buzz." Much to my shock, it actually worked at diffusing the situation. Chalk one up for the selfish, stoned girl at the table.
I don't mean to neglect the blog, but my pain meds are kicking in again. (I can tell when they do, too. It's a very distinct reality shift. Very very distinct.) I think I need to get myself a little more sleep. I'll try to write more later. A Belated Happy Thanksgiving to all!
Loyal to my word, I didn't eat or drink after midnight the night before. I showered and brushed my teeth the morning of and took my two Valium with a sip of water as required. (I mentioned that I was freaked out at the idea of surgery, the doctor handed me a prescription. What ever happened to calming words? Better living through chemistry, I suppose.) When we got to the office, I was feeling pretty damned mellow. In fact, I can easily see how so many people can enjoy Valium. You're coherent. There's no drug fog. You just don't really care about much of anything. There's no anxiety. There's no feeling. You just kinda are.
I was hooked up to several annoying, beeping machines. I was left in the room with my husband. The doctor finally came in and tried to get a vein so they could give me the sodium pentathol. First, I have to mention that his technique was awful. For a man who spends much of his time giving injections, he was really really bad at finding my vein. In fact, he did the worst thing ever, which was smack the spots on my arms and hands that he was trying to find them. Other than the amazing ability to piss off a patient, this technique also boasts the joy of actually making veins HARDER to find. Smart, doc. Somewhere after that injection, I recall something being fitted over my face. After that, I don't recall.
What I do recall, however, is waking up during the procedure to intense pain. I was waking up while they were still pulling teeth!! With fingers and instruments in my mouth, I couldn't do much other than moan, but it was enough to get the message across. I couldn't really open my eyes. I heard them tell me that I was doing great and that it was almost over--is that just something people tell you in the midst of pain? I distinctly recall having heard those words associated with childbirth as well--and then I was waking up later. I recall asking to see my teeth and being told that someone else already took them out of the room. (Hell, I figure if I had to pay $1400 to have them removed, the least you could do is show the bitches to me, right?!) Then, I was being walked to a recovery room.
I was surprisingly awake afterward. My mouth was numb, which all the nurses and people knew, and yet they insisted on asking me questions. Really? How in the hell do you expect me to respond when I can't feel my tongue and my mouth is stuffed with cotton?! But, you make the requisite noises in response and the struggle to understand what you said that ensues you have the misfortune of trying to find vaguely comical somehow. I bled for the rest of the day, but I slept pretty damned well.
The pain hasn't been that bad. The doctor gave me percocet, roxan, and clindamycin to have filled before the day of the surgery. All I had to do was take them when I got home. He also gave me an additional prescription for darvocet. I was thinking they were crazy during the first few days because the pain wasn't bad enough to warrant another round of narcotics. Now, however, I think I'm changing my mind. The pain is a little bit worse, but it's not the sockets themselves. It's all the surrounding tissues. Even my sinuses ache. I'm a little worried about dry socket, which doesn't seem to be happening, but I'll worry until I know more because that's just how I am. At any rate, if the pain doesn't significantly lessen by the time Tuesday rolls back around, I'll be calling their offices. As it stands, ice packs and heat are helping, so I'm not too worked up about it.
Thanksgiving wasn't all that bad. I had anticipated that things would be much much worse. My father had been angry with the family for a few days before. I don't blame him. Things get too crazy around here. But, of course, because he was upset, they had to be upset too. Then, we play the game where we try to pull everyone else into the middle. Mostly, I just don't care to hear it. I get really tired of the attitudes. I work too hard to have to put up with the bullshit.
My twin came into town as well as my great aunt and uncle, who we call Grandma Linda and Grandpa Jack--we've always called them that. It wasn't that bad. Things were a little rough at first, but by dinner people were warming up to each other. All in all, we had a nice time. The food was good, though I may have overdone it, being fresh out of surgery like I was. I should have avoided the turkey and focused more attention on the potatoes.
The tension at least dissipated. Things just get a little crowded around here. They spend so much time around each other that eventually they just want to blow up about it. The only thing that JJ and I have going for us here is that we get out of the house regularly. We have obligations and things that keep us occupied, so when we're home, we tend to appreciate the fact that we're home a little more. The rest of them not having jobs--save my twin, of course, who is down at college the rest of the year--just puts them around each other too much. They just need to stick to their separate corners more often...or at least, more often around family holidays when feelings are already strained.
The only good thing to come of being post-op in the midst of family warfare was that I got to use the phrase, "Seriously, guys, stop it. You're ruining my buzz." Much to my shock, it actually worked at diffusing the situation. Chalk one up for the selfish, stoned girl at the table.
I don't mean to neglect the blog, but my pain meds are kicking in again. (I can tell when they do, too. It's a very distinct reality shift. Very very distinct.) I think I need to get myself a little more sleep. I'll try to write more later. A Belated Happy Thanksgiving to all!
Monday, November 16, 2009
Happy Anniversary!
First, Happy Anniversary to my husband! Today marks our second year of marriage!
Today, I'm feeling very positive. My paper for English tonight is complete, and I think it's a very good paper. Indeed, I wouldn't have been able to make it so great if not for Kevin, who helped me immensely. Not only that, he also complemented me liberally which was nice because it's always horrible for one's ego to have another critique one's writing. It was nice that someone else had faith in my abilities.
This morning, Jim helped me work on a scholarship essay. He was really very helpful, and I feel like I came out with a much better essay because of him. I turned in a final product that I was very confident about, but now it's just a waiting game. We'll see who ends up getting nominated for Owens. (The scholarship in question is the Jack Kent Cooke scholarship. It's $30,000 a year for up to 3 years. Super important! Fingers crossed for me, okay?!) Needless to say, it's been a day of writing for me, a theme that I'll have to continue well into tomorrow in order to finish my essay about the common traits suffragists share. At any rate, I'm feeling productive.
Scholarship essay: done. English paper: done. History paper: in progress and coming along nicely. Take-home Chem test: not begun. All in all, not bad.
Today, I'm feeling very positive. My paper for English tonight is complete, and I think it's a very good paper. Indeed, I wouldn't have been able to make it so great if not for Kevin, who helped me immensely. Not only that, he also complemented me liberally which was nice because it's always horrible for one's ego to have another critique one's writing. It was nice that someone else had faith in my abilities.
This morning, Jim helped me work on a scholarship essay. He was really very helpful, and I feel like I came out with a much better essay because of him. I turned in a final product that I was very confident about, but now it's just a waiting game. We'll see who ends up getting nominated for Owens. (The scholarship in question is the Jack Kent Cooke scholarship. It's $30,000 a year for up to 3 years. Super important! Fingers crossed for me, okay?!) Needless to say, it's been a day of writing for me, a theme that I'll have to continue well into tomorrow in order to finish my essay about the common traits suffragists share. At any rate, I'm feeling productive.
Scholarship essay: done. English paper: done. History paper: in progress and coming along nicely. Take-home Chem test: not begun. All in all, not bad.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
As Aimee Mann Says...
Alright, so here we are again, dear old friends! It's been a while, I know. Forgive me! My life is hectic and chaotic. As the blog says, overworked and underpaid.
My car has been leaking oil furiously, which, of course, is going to cost copious amounts of money. I have to pay for my oral surgery still, however, and thus I will not be able to pay for both. So, do I keep the car and postpone the surgery, or do I keep the surgery date and postpone the car? To drive to classes and work or to be finished with the pressure in my mouth, that is the question. (I have always had the feeling that people who add the phrase "that is the question" to the end of a sentence feel that Hamlet had nothing on them. Yet, how many of us can claim to have had to fight our kingdoms away from our adultering uncle who killed our father? Not many, I'm willing to bet. Hamlet is still worse off than I am.)
This, of course, does not mention my academic strain. I skipped a class last night, despite my better judgment. I felt horrible and depressed about my car and the state of my finances. It was really better that I wasn't there. I wouldn't have been paying attention because I was sick, and then I'd have been paying even less attention because I'd be too preoccupied with paying for my life, which is the one thing that I can't seem to manage to do. It was a good thing that we went home too, because later that night I had a crying jag. In fact, that seems to be something that I've been doing a lot of lately.
I cry when something is sad. I cry when something is happy. I cry when something is triumphant. I cry when something is overwhelming. I cry when something is underwhelming. I am beginning to wonder if I have some kind of hormonal imbalance or something. Lord knows I'm not usually this emotional. In the past, I was irritated with myself if I didn't seem to cry enough at sad things. Now, I cry at things that aren't sad at all! I found myself fighting off tears watching movies about women's suffrage in history class! How ridiculous am I these days? I mean, really!
I keep thinking that JJ and I would be better off living on our own again, but then I wonder where we'd get the money to be able to do that. We're a burden on my parents who can't make enough to support themselves as it is. Normally, we'd be contributing to them, but we haven't been able to do that lately either with all the car issues. So what are we supposed to do? The sad part is that if we had been stupid and had kids early, we'd be basically taken care of, especially being back in school like this. It makes me sad that intelligent, hard-working people like my husband and I can't make it in this world, but ignorant, lazy welfare parents can do just fine.
I'm feeling jaded and sad today. It's like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, but it never goes away. Just when I shift the weight to a comfortable position, more of it gets heaped on top.
My car has been leaking oil furiously, which, of course, is going to cost copious amounts of money. I have to pay for my oral surgery still, however, and thus I will not be able to pay for both. So, do I keep the car and postpone the surgery, or do I keep the surgery date and postpone the car? To drive to classes and work or to be finished with the pressure in my mouth, that is the question. (I have always had the feeling that people who add the phrase "that is the question" to the end of a sentence feel that Hamlet had nothing on them. Yet, how many of us can claim to have had to fight our kingdoms away from our adultering uncle who killed our father? Not many, I'm willing to bet. Hamlet is still worse off than I am.)
This, of course, does not mention my academic strain. I skipped a class last night, despite my better judgment. I felt horrible and depressed about my car and the state of my finances. It was really better that I wasn't there. I wouldn't have been paying attention because I was sick, and then I'd have been paying even less attention because I'd be too preoccupied with paying for my life, which is the one thing that I can't seem to manage to do. It was a good thing that we went home too, because later that night I had a crying jag. In fact, that seems to be something that I've been doing a lot of lately.
I cry when something is sad. I cry when something is happy. I cry when something is triumphant. I cry when something is overwhelming. I cry when something is underwhelming. I am beginning to wonder if I have some kind of hormonal imbalance or something. Lord knows I'm not usually this emotional. In the past, I was irritated with myself if I didn't seem to cry enough at sad things. Now, I cry at things that aren't sad at all! I found myself fighting off tears watching movies about women's suffrage in history class! How ridiculous am I these days? I mean, really!
I keep thinking that JJ and I would be better off living on our own again, but then I wonder where we'd get the money to be able to do that. We're a burden on my parents who can't make enough to support themselves as it is. Normally, we'd be contributing to them, but we haven't been able to do that lately either with all the car issues. So what are we supposed to do? The sad part is that if we had been stupid and had kids early, we'd be basically taken care of, especially being back in school like this. It makes me sad that intelligent, hard-working people like my husband and I can't make it in this world, but ignorant, lazy welfare parents can do just fine.
I'm feeling jaded and sad today. It's like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, but it never goes away. Just when I shift the weight to a comfortable position, more of it gets heaped on top.
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