I am Better, but She is Not.

My Room,
Coffee!
Studying for ASL midterm
Sleepy!
9:29 am
Monday, January 31, 2005

I am Better, but She is Not.

This was a good weekend. Quiet, calm, some what rest filled. Friday was spent facebook stalking random people, and eventually doing shit all. Alii was supposed to go on a date, and I was going to be stalker security, but since her date was sick, and everyone else bailed, we watched the "Emperor's New Groove."

Saturday = bliss. I awoke to Alii coming into watch "West Wing" while I continued to sleep. After I woke up, we realized that for the first time since the quarter started, we had absolutly nothing to do. It was amazing. We watched copious amounts of "West WIng," ate Mac n Cheese, danced, and eventually we to Jimmie's as to not go stir crazy. Did we do a damn bit of work? Hell no. Did we belly dance? Hell no. Did we babble drunkenly at her Soc. TA for two hours? Well, yea, we kind of did.

Sunday was not so blissful. The Ultimate Dance Show was at 5:00, so of course we had to be there at 10:30. We had a crappy half-ass run through. Then the waiting. And the waiting. The show went really well, after the hours of work and napping that ensued in the intrim. Gywn didn't get to come, because her babysitter stood her up, which is lame. But, it was relaly nice. We all looked hot. I took a bazillion pictures, and Will said he'd attempt to help me get them on the web, yet again. For some reason, my computer just doesn't groove on that.

After the dancing, there was a shower of the God (oh did my face hate me and the 43 lbs. of make up i put on it.), and dinner at Bartlett, French paper, EOSI reading, and sleep sleep sleep. Hooray for calm weekends that make me better.

In other news, Ayse and Scott broke up. I won't get into it now, but Ayse is now realizing that she, yet again, forsaked her own life for someone who is ultimately not worthy. I mean, honestly, who is worthy of sacrificing our whole life for? I'd venture to say almost no one, at least not anyone that you'd want to be in a real relationship with. I feel sorry for her: lord knows that getting your heart broken is a horrible, painful thing. At the same time, I'm not sure I can let her back in again. She comes, and she goes, and she comes and she goes, meanwhile being a shitty friend, and I'm expected, to A) put my life on hold whenever she needs me and B) let her waltz back in, assume her old position whenever she feels, not counting the fact that she'll be gone in a month. I don't think I have the emotional fortitude for that anymore. It hurts to build friendships, only to have one party totally bail for a boy and a relationship that's ulitmatly doomed to fail. I'm tired of having the same six conversations over and over and over about how she's got issues, and doens't know how to deal. None of us do. We all have issues, at least the people that I surround myself with, me included, and no one has it all figured out. But, we are working on it, doing what it takes to keep us sane, striving to figure things out, grow as people, and live a better life. Instead, Ayse stands there constantly justifying, constantly seeing the negative, focusing on the negative, making judgements though she doens't know anymore, and being unwilling to change, or at least work to better her situation. If you do nothing but constantly attempt to justify your life, or elements there in to a skeptical audience who sees through the sham, what does that tell you about what you're desperately trying to justify? You have to truely want to be better before you can do just that, and if you're not working towards the same goals as me for your own life, I'm not sure my mental and emotinal well being want you around. A true life is it's own justification.

I've been here.
I've done this, and it sucked just as bad last time.
I'm the one that gets thrown aside, promises broken, our plans don't count
And it hurts, but though she sees it, she does it over and over.
I am not her emotional door mat, I am worth more then that.
She claims to see me all the time, which is a lie, and goes somewhere else.
I doubt I'd want to see her anyway.

If she were a good friend, committed to the relationship, then it would be different, but that's not the case. Whe do I have to be the one to pick up the pieces, when she wasn't there, isn't there for me? Yes, last year was one thing, but I'm not that person anymore, yet she remains the same. I open my life to her, for her to swoop in with the heavy negativism, the critisms for me though it's not her place, and the same six conversations. Why? I'm not sure I can do this anymore.

What's the point? I said I wouldn't get into it, and maybe I did a bit. Not that that matters. She wouldn't be able to see the truth anyway unless she was drunk. Then she'd ramble on about herself, and how sorry she is, only to wake up sober, and again justifying.

I don't think friendships should have to be justified.

I Totally Touched Barack Obama!

My Room
Sleepy
Almost Time for French
TGIF!!
9:53 am
Friday, January 28, 2005


I Totally Touched Barack Obama!

Ayse and I went to the 32nd Anniversary party for Roe vs. Wade thrown by Planned Parenthood, Chicago Area, last night. It was at the Ritz Carlton, and I totally touched Barack Obama.

I feel so blessed to have occasion to experience things that reaffirm my committment to what I want to do with my life. There were over 900 people there last night, 900 people all committed to their believes: to be in the sane minority that says a woman's body is her own choice. Because who's else should it be? Republican's in Congress who'll send American soliders to die in a war that has no foreseeable end? Since time enternal, men have treated women as the inferior sex, as incapable of making decisions for themeselves. While we hear about the truncated rights of women across the world as the US attempts to impose democracy all around, but what about the rights of women here? While we may be some of the most priviliged women in the world in terms of human rights, saying that someone other then individual women, and the people that love them have any place to make the agonizing decision to carry or abort a pregnancy harks straight back to the male yoke of oppression that rules in so many places across the globe.

With Bush newly elected, a newly promoted Cheif Justice, and several soon to retire justices, the balance of Roe vs. Wade may soon end. There are already four states where it is legal for pharmacies to not fill a women's prescription for contraceptives. The nations largest pharmacy chain, Walmart, refuses to carry the morning-after pill. There are those in Congress that want to make parental consent mandatory in the case of underage abortion. Don't they understand that in all too many cases, it's those same parents who have caused the abortion to be necessary in the first place?

They call pro-choice women whores. They call us sluts. They call us ignorant, fanatics, radicals.

Last night, I was reminded of what we truely are: a sane minority with a lot of work ahead of us if we are to assure the reproductive rights of women everywhere. And I'm committed to the cause.


Sorry to get on my soap box. I'll fill in the other details later, but now I have French to go to.
But to quickly sum:
I totally touched Barack Obama.

Here's For Doing Your Best

Post Physics Midterm Decompression
NEED to clean my room
Hmmm. . .
10:51 am
Tuesday, January 25, 2005


Here's For Doing Your Best

I actually don't think I completely failed my physics midterm. Hooray for studying, and being at least moderatly prepared. For doing the best you can, and not worrying that it might not have been perfect.

I think I may be pulling on through to the other side of the mental mayhem I've been engulfed in for the past week or so. I had a Community Service Finance Commitee meeting yesterday, and it was very life re-affirming. It made me realize that yes, I am doing good things with my life, as are all these other people that want us to allocate them funds to do that more effectively. It was very pleasant to have my opinion listened to and respected for what it is. Turns out, every once in a while I know what I'm talking about.

The CSFC is a student committee, run on two year appointments, that allocates funds to varoius Registered Student Organizations and student groups for community service related projects. Everyone pays a Student Activity Fee with the majority going to the Student Government Finance Committee to give out for study breaks, and such, with the rest going to us to distribute. We have a yearly meeting where we give huge chunks of money to groups like APO and such for their scheduled activities that take place all year, then quarterly meetings where we allocate to smaller groups for specific projects. People come and make presentations, we read their proposals, discuss their aims, and their administrative ability to successfully execute their plan, then we vote. There's about 8 people on the committee, and there was 6 of us last night. I always enjoy in more then I think I will.

What's always so life affirming is the people. It's such a blessing to be reminded oif not only what I want to do with my life as a whole, but to see all these others, just as bogged down with work, all with their own social issues, and hundreds of other things that I can't even begin to fathom in the 20 minutes we talk to them -- yet they're not giving up. They, Me, Us -- we're all still committeed to working for social change, whether on a large scale, as with MEChA, who's organizing a series of workshops that will show Latino students that they have other opitions besides trade school and unions, to helping make individual's lives just a little easier, like Friend's of Ronald McDonald House who cook dinner and plan family activities like bingo for the families staying there while their other children are in the hospital.

It's made me realize that I need to do more. While I've been telling Kenneth that, I myself have become a tad complacient in the recent weeks. In my own defense, I've been struggling with not having a nutty every 45 minutes, not having panic attacks, not sinking into the depths of useless, pointless depression. But, no more.

To start: Thrusday, Ayse and I are going to a fundraiser for Planned Parenthood. It's to celebrate the 32nd anniversary of Roe vs. Wade and a woman's right to choose. Tickets are $120 if you can afford it, $25 for students. It's going to be fabulous -- food, cocktails, and brillant speakers, all for a great cause. Who am I to deny my overies their due? Lord knows that I owe Planned Parenthood more then just this event, but I'm glad to do what little part I can. And if the cause wasn't enough, Barack Obama is going to speak. Hooray for superb political minds, with vision and determination. As Mom said, I wouldn't be suprised, in fact I hope, that I see Obama as president in my life time.

And on that note, I need to call Inroads and see if I can go to the Talent Pool in Chicago, and I need to finish my Summer Links application, and Oh, is my room a shithole.

Here's to getting a firm grasp of my horses yet again.

Well, At Least You're Honest

My Room
Drinking Coffee
About to go to Class
Sleepy, Sleepy, Sleepy
9:40 am
Monday, January 24, 2005

Well, At Least You're Honest

Alii, Kenneth and I had dinner in Bartlett last night, and we had a moment of truth. Understand that Alii and I were having a full blown nutty, right there in Batlett -- manic laughter, wide-eyed and skittish. Alii stated that she'd was about ten minutes from crawling under the table and not coming out. Kenneth is sitting there, eating a quesadilla, being skeptacle. So, I ask him:
"What's it like to be metally and emotionally stable?"
"All right I guess. Never been any other way, so I don't think about it much."
"What would you do if Alii and I got under the table and seriously flipped our shit. I'm talking, won't come out, rocking like scared autistic children, full out nutty. What would you do?"
"I don't know. Sit here. Probably get a snack."

You'd get a snack? You'd get goddamn snack? Well, at least he's honest. That about put Alii and I over the edge. In his own defense, he didn't run away. We came home, and he sat with me and flat-hand rubbed my back until the world was a little less scary.

"I've been trying harder this past week. Trying harder in everything, and life has been better. I promised I wouldn't ever leave if you needed me, so I'm going to sit here with you for a while."

Maybe I do have a positive effect on people. Oh ex-boyfriends and underlying issues.

Meih

My Room
Pre-bed bowl
Waiting for Alii so that. .
West Wing and Painting!
12:53 am
Wednesday, January 19, 2005


Meih

Today, was a day. Not a particularly good day, nor especially bad, just less then good. Let me be frank: Math has Re-entered My Life and I'm Pissed.

To being, last night, I was reading "Psychology Today," instead of my reading for EOSI and I realized that the magazine was really looking at the type of things that I'm interested in. I mean, I adore sociological theory, but testing it, not so much. I then went back and realized that all the data that I was interested in, in the bajillion articles I've been reading about educational organization and structrual effects, the glowing tidbits all came from social psychology.

So, I'm going to double major Sociology and Psychology.
That means I have to take calculus.

I don't know if I'm honesty going to be able to pull it off, since I'll be in Paris next autumn, God willing. But, I'm at least going to talk to Maria. And I think that I'm going to start looking at Grad schools with good psychology departments, aka: Stanford. How sweet would that be -- undergrad at not only the leading sociological institute in the nation, if not the world, but also the top rated academic country in the college, closely followed with a masters in pyschology from the leading pyschological institute in the states. Brillant I say! Brillant.

Well, that was how Math made it's sneaky little way back onto my mental field. And then today happened. You see, Tuesday is supposed to be my free-ish day. I start nice and early with Astrophysics at 9:00 until 10:20, then I have nothing until the lab at 2:30. From lab I go to Belly Dancing until 6:00, meet Alii at Bartmart for a snack, and off to Crerear for study study study. Since I'm well occupied until late in the evening, I allow myself between the hours to 10:30 and 2:30 to do whatever the fuck I want. Sleep usually, cook breakfast, go to the doctor, study if I must, write things, errands, etc, etc. Today's agenda: breakfast, coffee, smoking, Ayse time, West Wing, and curling up in my chair to read about Buddhism. I was fully on my way to achieving the full potential of this leisure time, when decided to check out Chalk. (That's a thought I can never fully tell to go away, "But have you checked Chalk? Are you sure? There could be an assignment. Maybe you should check. . ." ) Turns out, I was supposed to do as much of the lab entitle "Math Review" as possible before class, using a calculator.

Boo!

So, I spend the next two hours doing long division the hard way. It was ridiculous. Once I get to lab, my TA tells me that I don't have to do all that, I can do the manual shit on the calculator, they just want to make sure we understand the underlying principles of equations and such. Goddamnit.

So, I spend another two hours battle Mr. Math, and to no avail, I have not yet conquored him. Luckily, it's not due until next Tuesday.

And, on the good side. I met someone really cool. His name is Grant and he's my lab partner. We're just chit-chatting about life -- he's from So-Cal, Orange County, possibly majoring Public Policy, first year, lives in Max. I comment that I like his ear plugs -- his ears are gaged out a bit. Come to find out he used to have his eyebrow, tongue, and ears gaged out to the max. Now, just the ears a bit. I show him my tatoo. First words out of his mouth are, "Awesome. What does it mean to you?" Then we had this conversation, Grant asking:

"What kinda music to you listen to?"
*I spin my SCI logoed Nalgen around*
"Did you see them at UIC?"
"Totally! It was my first show!"
"So, moe. Feb. 22."
"Keller in the beginning of March."
"PANIC FOR FOUR DAYS!"
"SCI again in the spring"

At this point, it doesn't matter who started or who was saying what because we were babbling at each other. Turns out, I found another dirty hippie like me. It's the shit. He asked what I was listening to now, and I told him, "Live dank Phish." "From when?" "A couple of shows from 97' and 01'." "Dank. Yes, those were dank years."

Hooray for like minded people. We spend the rest of the lab discussing various artists, swapping "Oh my god I saw them ______" stories and such. And we're going to start going to shows together. I'm assuming he's very rich, although he doesn't come of as such at all, because he's from Orange County and he's flying back next weekend to see Particle. This is something he does. But whatever.

As if this discovery wasn't enough, I realized something: I'm going to stop assessing people automatically as "Well, I could date them," or "No way in hell," but instead let friendships develop, and see what happens, and start asking people to do things with me if I'm so inclined. I mean, I'm going to stop looking for love and waiting for it to knock on my door at the same time, if that makes sense at all.

The rest of the day was blah because I had dance with the yucky dance teacher who I think thinks that I don't do certain exercises because of my back, not just because I don't feel about it. I've told her my back can't do that, but whatever. She pretty much ignores me, which is a feat in a class of 4 people. And then the smarmy girl bought everything that she had brought to see if we wanted to buy any. And that chick isn't even in the Troop and started last week, so that was annoying. And Valerie, who is a sweet heart, got all condescending and talked a lot, which made me want to throw shoes at her. Bless her heart, she's a nice person, but something about her when she speaks makes me want to leave the room.

But, Alii and I made tasty salad (spinach, blue cheese, mandrine oranges, walnuts, bacon vinagrette) and we're drinking wine and watching West Wing, so it's all better now.


Ya know, my day seems a lot better know that I got all that out of my system. Thanks for that Idea Lp. Love ya!

C'est Fini, Grace a mon Dieu

And it is done. You are now reading the blog of a free, single, woman. Hooray. Details later, just be assured in the fact that this is 80,000 times better. Downside: I have to sleep alone. Upsides: everything else.

Weekend 'O My Birthday

Drinking Coffee
Little bit of Wake and Bake
About to go to Class
It's FREAKIN' Cold Out!
9:57 am
Monday, January 17, 2005
Happy Birthday Sean

Weekend 'O My Birthday

This wasa the weekend of me, and may I say, it was amazing. To recap. . .

Thursday, since the original symphony plans were bust, I once again, spent my birthday evening at House of Sushi and Noodles. It was tasty, there were mounds of sushi, and people I love. I found it highly entertaining that the people who shared my birthday this year, not a one of them were present for last years festivities. Afer sushi, we, like the cool people we are, watched West Wing. I got the third season in the mail on my birthday -- hooray for the postal system. It was a nice, relaxed birthday, since it was a Thursday, and we all had class and such. Someone somewhere be proud of me: I had two drinks, as opposed to spliting a 30 pack, par last year.


Friday, was amaszing. Ayse bought me the nicest little birthday present, and just like "Pulp Fiction," we went dancing. Turkish Cuisine and Bakery = Yummy. Turns out, they have a belly dance on Fridays. She eventually came over to our table, and to the delight of our friends, Alii and I joined her and belly danced a bit. It was kinda hillarious, actually. She turns to us and goes "Do you know this song?" I want you imagine this music for a second -- think the worst, cheapest disco in the 80's + Two Turkish dudes jamming on the keyboards + snatches of horrible pop songs. Needless to say, it was fabulous. We told the lovely belly dancer that we, Alii and I, were in fact in a belly dancing troop. I think she got a kick out of that. There were two other birthday parties present, and there was dancing, dancing. Some of the waiters actually broke out a video camera and captured it all. It's odd to think that my birthday festivities are now a part of someone's home video forever. Basically, the owners of the restaurant played songs for me, gave me free dessert, and made a giant spectacle of me. And let's be honest -- that's all I ever really want for my birthday.

Saturday, Matt took me to the Symphony. It was fantastic. Handle, Bartok. Joy joy joy. I feel down though. Yup. All dressed up, Matt in his "I'm so good looking, don't you want to let me into med school" suit, and I fall up the stairs. It takes skill to fall up stairs, may I point out. We saw the most amazing lady too. (Amazing = odd) She was at least 75, but she was still rockin' it. Leather pants, sequined top, long blond wig, tons of botox, and of course sunglasses indoors. I was in love, and Matt was shocked and dismayed.

The only problem with going out and being adults of the evening is that eventually we had to come home and take care of the kids. Emmie and Kenneth had decided that filtering vodka through a Brita was the way to go, and the first things they said to us both was "Sorry we're soo drunk." It was odd. Kenneth again came and cried in my room, and I of course had to deal with that. And I was sober, might I just add.

He told me that he feels that I constantly negatively judge him.
He told me no one here knows him.
He told me all I do is critice him.

I was quite crushed. I pointed out the fact that I had never judged him. Had I, he probably wouldn't be sleeping in my bed every night, and the reason that no one here knows him, is because he won't let anyone in, me included. The reason I call him nieve freshman (beside it being the truth) is that that is only thing he ever lets anyone see. If he's more then that, then bring it on, but don't blame me for making the best of what I'm given. As to criticising him, I had to calmly explain that people have differing opinions, and just because I don't always agree with what he thinks doesn't mean that I invalidate his opinion.

Why God, oh why am I dating a first year?
This has to end.

I'm tried of cajoling, comforting, and coddling him, while in the meantime, I have no chance of finding a real relationship with some substance.

He truely hurt me feelings because, A) I think he's way off base and projecting his own issues onto me, which is never cool, and B) she is like that.

This has to end. I see that now. The next morning, i woke up and was quite upset and his previous nights statements. Confused and scared, he fled to brunch, leaving me to cry alone in bed. My back was so bad yesterday that I left that warm place only 4 times.

That's a deal breaker: of all people, he should have been the one to stay there and comfort me, regardless of if he had any idea as to what specifically was wrong. But, he left. And I won't stand for that. Is it just me, or does it seem reasonable to think that the man (ah, maybe that's my problem) I'm with should be first in line to hold my hand? That we should be able to get through things together without personal attacks? Sean left, and I refuse to be in a relationship with someone who won't stay for the hard times.

This has to end.

And the Problem Is . .

He feels that he needs me, and I know I don't need him.

I Heart Matt

"What would I do without you, Matt?"
"I don't know. You'd probably end up barefoot and pregnant."

*Starts searching around my room, high and low.*

"Matt, what are you looking for?"
"Sanity."
"Of all the places for there to be spontaneous wads of sanity, I seriously doubt that my room is one of them."

Back to the studying. What would do without that kid?

So, Everything Pretty Much Sucks

Ouch.
Goddamnit.
This Sucks.
I'm getting kicked in the ass by Educational Organization
My Back Hates Me
Thank Christ for herbal refreshment
Boo Boo Boo
6:00 pm
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Days of Teenager -ness = 2

So, Everything Pretty Much Sucks

My back hates me and wants me to die
It hurts to sit.
It hurts to hold my head up.
Walking is a conscious activity if I want it to happen at all.
Boo.

Not only that, but I'm behind in work. I mean, I'm doing fine in everything except for my grad class. There's just an insurmountable pile of reading to do. I've been reading all day, and will continue into the evening.

Also, we were all going to go to the symphony for my birthday, but we fucked off and didn't get tickets early enough (Matt) and now it's sold out. At this point, I refuse to organize my own birthday. I know that I do tend to act as a social catalyst, or at least foci in our ellipses of friends, but I feel lame doing for myself. Alii said she and Matt will figure it out, so I'm not going to worry. We're going to try to go somewhere that requires us to dress up, which will rock my face off. Damn. I need to go to the drycleaners tomorrow.

And, since Ayse can't come on Friday, a bunch of us will once again be celebrating my birthday Friday night at Turkish Cuisine and Bakery. Hooray! Not only is it BYOB, it's amazing, and they have music. Ayse and Scott and the rest of the crew are going. Now only if Bryan, Eric, and Lauren were in attendance. And my dad.

I miss my Dad.
And Spartacus.

I spent a portion of the day today looking for internships in Austin. I found one site that looks very promising. It's called InRoads, and it's been consistently ranked as one of the top 10 organizations to intern with, along with the White House and the Supreme Court. You have to be a minority and commit to working for two summers. No problem. They're business oriented, so here's to Graduate school. I submitted the first application part and am now waiting for someone to contact me.

I guess, to admit it to y'all and myself, I'm a little freaked out about my future. I tend to have a pretty firm grasp on where my life is going, but at this point, too many factors are in the air for my liking.

I want to live in Austin this summer, but that means I need an internship, or awesome job that allows me to pay to live there and make enough money to come back to school.

Hopefully though, I'll be in Paris Autumn Quarter next year, but I have to apply soon.

Alii and I want to live together next year. That means we have to find an apartment, I have to figure out how to pay for it (financial aid covers it I think. It's actually cheaper to live in an apartment then in a dorm.)

And, if we find this fabled apartment of lore, then I have to find someone to sublease it for me for Autumn Quarter,
theoretically.

Boonarue is something that I've wanted to do, an experience I'd like to give myself for the 12 years of work that got to getting to this frozen wasteland, and the year for growth that went to being where I am now, and the insane amount of work it's going to take to get my life where I want it next.

That means I need to A) buy a ticket, B) move out of the dorm early (which is contingent on my mother, and that makes me angsty. Lord knows she probably will be less then willing to help me on this since it's just, ya know, horribly important to me. How can she not understand the having goals that invovle fun is necessary?), C) I need to figure out how to get there, which mean flying to Tennesse and having Bryan pick me up.

All of these things make me very unsure of where my upcoming place in the universe is. I truely don't want to end up in Tyler again for a summer. I'm also going to appy to Summer Links, which would place me in non-profit here in Chicago. That would also rock, but not near as much as Austin with Bryan.

Speaking of Bryan: he rocks my face off. I had a dream last night invovling our apartment, and live in Austin. It was hillarious. There was all sorts of debauchery going on, but the good clean kinda, not the kind that makes you wake up with regret. Just thought I'd share. If you read this B-man, call me because this dream was pretty damn brillant. You were especially bling-tastic. Here's to bling-trillessence. Did I tell you that I'm going to the fabric store this week to get stuff to make our flag and shirts and shits for Boonarue? Yea. It's gonna kick all sorts of ass.

And Eric. Hunny, I love you. I feel like a bad friend, being so far away, not able to help you through the indefinable time of blah that you're going through right now. I haven't been in your exact position, but I've been somewhere in the vacinity, and it sucks. I try not to worry because I know that you are an infinitly resourceful individual, who is smart, talented, and aware of what you want from life. I know you're courageous enough to go after those goals, which includes taking steps to ensue your own mental well being, and I'm positive that you'll come out on the other side a better person for it. I mean, for you, the king of "let's understand this," this could be looked at as the ultimate experience: someone qualified is going to help you figure out you. I know it's disconcerting to not know why you do things you do, or why you can't change your attitude. I also know that you'll figure it out.

I miss my friends from home. I feel like we're all so close, at least when I'm home. I'm going to try harder to maintain that emotional closeness despite the miles, because honestly speaking, we need each other more now then we do over the holidays we spend together. It's when you're away from your friends that you most need them to help remind you of who you really are. I love you guys, and I'll start calling more. Y'all do the same, bitches.

Also, I have my first belly dancing show January 22. It's become very important to me. I love it, and I think that I don't suck. I need to perform again. Alii and I are thinking of trying to start dancing in various places to make money. She's done it before, and there are a lot of places that look for belly dancers in Chicago. I don't think I'm that good though. Yet at least.

Oh, and a few minutes ago, I went upstairs and ran into Sara -- one of the resident heads."

"Hey Mia, did Grant (other RH) email you?
"No."
"Oh, well, we wanted to talk to you for a bit? Can you stop by tonight? You're not in trouble."
"Uhh. . Sure."

I'm doing my best not to freak out, but it's not working all that well. I mean, what do they want? I'm also feeling guilty for falling down on my House Vice President duties and not being on top of birthdays last quarter. In my own defense, I wasn't much on top of anything because of my illness, and will defend myself to them if need be. No stress. I will not stress.

This is mildly amussing and goes to show the state I'm in: as I started to think about talking to them, I started to get anxious, then I felt my back tense up. Thinking about that = back pain.

Goddamnit, everything pretty much sucks.
At least I uploaded all my life Phish and now have 18 hours of scintillating, delicious musical treats.

A New Beginning?

My Room
"This One is for Your" Phish proclaims
About to play Drinking Candyland
I have SOOOO much work to do, goddamnit
Have a pre-game drink
9:24 pm
Saturday, January 8, 2005

A New Beginning?

Kenneth and I are back together. I know, it's odd, and in the end we're all sorts of wrong for each other, but as it stands now, it functions. As I told him, most people and things deserve a second chance. We'll try this again, only on the condition that we both try harder, and we'll see how it works out. I mean, when someone crys in your room, and you realize that the extent of your feelings was a tad bit more then you had at first suspected, what else are you supposed to do? And I woke up happy today.

Cigarette Break.

Lordy, all these people want to go to a party at Alpha Delta. Nope. Boo that all sorts. I outgrew frat parties years ago. I mean, what about that sounds good? I don't need to get hit on by sweaty frat boys, I don't need to drink cheap beer, be smoothered in cigarette smoke, or dry fuck on the dance floor. Thanks very much, I'll pass. I'd rather stay home and do work.

Let us see what this night holds.

The End Has Come

My Room
Drinking green tea
About to Read some Weber
Back In School! Hooray!
8:04 pm
Tuesday, January 4, 2005

The End Has Come

So, I broke up with Kenneth last night. There is a time for things to begin, and there's a time for them to end. Our had come. It actually went remarkably well. In fact, we ended up chit chatting and hanging out for a while, and there's no weirdness. It's not that I don't care about him, or enjoy his company, I just don't want to have sex with him. He's a great friend and I'm really happy that we can continue our now platonic friendship.

I had a ridiculous New Years, and now I'm back in school. And it's fucking fabulous.

I'm retaking my French 202 that I had to drop last quarter. My teacher, Aude, is such a conscientious teacher: she replied to the email I sent her and the French department telling them of my illness and ensuing class discontinuation today. She thinks it'll be a good idea for us to set up a time and meet once a week. It can't hurt anything, and I'm flattered that she's willing to take that time. I don't necessarily think I need extra help -- in fact, I was pretty on the ball before the Evil Mystery Virus of Doom, but it'll be good practice.

I'm also in ASL 102, which is about the same. I enjoy that class, but I don't think I'll take the 200 level next year.

I'm taking Astrophysics too. Don't freak out: the nickname for this class around here is Flying Rocks for Jocks. The prof seems really cool. It's amazing I made it to class at all though. We decided that drinking needed to occur last night, so of course, I didn't go to sleep until 3;45. I magically awoke at 9, which is awesome, because my physics lecture is at 9. I woke up, drank some emergen-C, (Vitamin drink mix of the gods) put on my coat and left. Luckily I had slept in my clothes, so that saved time. I was only a little late. I'm sitting there, paying attention, next to a rather cute guy when I realized that I had forgotten to put a bra on. It was an entertaining revelation. Anywho, the prof is cool. He used a globe to show us stuff, and it was neat.

I'm also in a graduate level class -- Educational Organization and Social Inequality. It's cool. I have got a veritable shitload of reading, but the class seems to be awesome. I'm ready to bask the knowledge of others.

Anywho, Kenneth's going to help my buy a digital camera, so I've got to run. See? All's well that ends well.

What the Hell is Up with That?

My Room
Chicago!
6:00 pm
January 3, 2003

What the Hell is Up with That?

So I wrote about 8 posts over the break, and I uploaded them all this morning, but for some reason the only way you can see them is to go to the December archive. Does anyone know why that's happening, and how I can fix it? I mean, chronologically speaking, those should show up first.

If it's just my computer, and y'all see them, please let me know.

I'll update about school, blah, blah, after I deal with some ensuing life drama.