Oh, But How Wrong I Was

So, starting last week and ending Thursday, I wrote a paper. What I thought was a good paper, one that did exactly what papers are supposed to do. It made me consolidate my knowledge in a coherent manner, proving to the world once and for all that, yes, I in fact know some stuff. Woot for me.

I left the library with a feeling of elation: I wrote this paper and it is good.

Oh but I was wrong. I just to the paper back: C+.

The worst: a little note from my TA.

"I think you've just missed the main point of Brewer's piece."

The disappointing part isn't the grade. Luckily, I know live in a time where my happiness and well being is not directly tantamount to my GPA. But, shit. I was happy that I learned some things. Look ma, I wrote a paper. But no.

That'll teach me for putting in extra effort and doing my work before the night before it's due. Ha! See if I'll do that again.

I had a sad realization today while walking to class, before I received my ego-crushing paper.

I'm pretty darn good at being a student, but I'm a really crappy scholar.

Dreams and Headaches

My House
Chillaxing
Monday, February 27, 2006
6:32 pm

Dreams and Headaches

I had a dream that I had a child. A beautiful, intelligent, amazing little girl. I was older, but still the same me, only with a little one as well. The rest of the dream was pretty uninspiring -- I bought a rug and was rude to my aunt Lori. But the baby! I've been thinking a lot about children lately. I want one, but not today. This child had an amazing father as well. Honest, smart as hell, devoted. And no, it was not the Tall Blonde Biochemist. There is in fact one other person on this planet that can quiet my mind with their mere presence.

Now, this dream was moderately infuriating. Yea subconcious? I want to have a kid? With him? For real? I had no idea.

At one point in the dream, I found a check my mother had given me, like so many checks for monthly expenses. Instead of just the month in the 'memo' space it said:
February: Motherhood

Instantly, two things that she said to me last visit played in my head. "A child's personality solidifies before they're 6, for the most part. You're still the exact same, that's for sure. And you turned out so wonderful because of where your father and I were at that point in our lives. The love, joy, and interesting things for you to do all the time, plus two parents that love the crap out you. Because we were so in love, you were so happy."

As I was telling her about wanting kids one day, "You should work on finding a boyfriend first. You don't to well with that whole dating-people-who-actually-live-near-by thing. Have you noticed that? Are you incapable of forming real relationships? Let's work on that before we start making babies."

Sure, those were filtered through my less-than-perfect moment, but you get the idea. Sigh.

Oh, and it turns out I have migraines. I had a four-day headache, complete with nausea and lots of other lameness. So, they gave me this medicine that you're supposed to take before the thing starts: abortive medication.

The thing with migraines is you get what's called an aura before it hits you. It's basically the same thing that happens to epileptics. This aura can range from weird light patterns, or sensitivity to sound. Or it can be "a general feeling that something is wrong."

So, wait. If I have a general feeling that something is wrong, I'm supposed to take a pill? Yea. Right.

"For Days When Life is More Than a Notion"

My House
Chillaxing
2:12 pm
I don't feel like working. . .
Saturday, Feb. 24, 2005

"For Days When Life is More than a Notion"

So, it's Saturday and I usually spend these doing work: reading, researching, writing, thinking. And it's generally pretty sweet when you consider that I'm a giant dork. Oh no! I have to sit around and read Leibniz/Foucault/Heidegger all day! Oh, what a tragedy! (Except last Saturday: it was cold beyond all reason and they didn't turn on our heat. Boo.)

But today? Not today. No, I think I'll do other things instead. At least before I even begin to think about the vastness of things I need to learn between now and Monday.

Why? I wasn't doing so well yesterday. I started losing large chunks of time Thursday night, closely followed by not wanting to be around people. Then, I hallucinated the FUCK in mmy grade class, managing to come out of a three hour class with a page of notes. Me not taking notes every second? No continuously reassuring whisp of the pen and jingle of my bracelets? (I'm that kid that's noisy in class, all the time. Sorry about that.) Yea. It was pretty horrid. After standing in front of the Divinity school for about 2o mintues after class, not able unlock my bike because I was so entangled in compulsive, incoherent thought loops, I finally made it home. Not sleeping for several days may or may not have something to do with this suck that was my life for while. My brain was trying to climb out of my skull: LoudloUDloudLOUD.

So, I had to cancel my appointment with Wallace. Now, that's a difficult, silly, obnoixious, soul-tearing email to have to write to someone. I got the most lovely response.

"I will miss ending my week in the glow of your presence. Your energy seems to infect me. I remember riding to Gary in the car sitting next to you and marvelled at how up I felt when we arrived. I attributed that energy directly to you. Sooooo for the energy you have thus far provided... thanks a million. For the days when life is more than a notion, I hope I will become a source of energy for you. Meetings with me should not add to your stress. Have a Wallace kind of weekend."

I love my boss. And I love my life. Ridiculous Head and all, it's pretty bitchin'. So, instead of doing work, I will regale the internet with some gems of knowledge I figured out during the week, because of the week, inspite of the day.


My new calling in life: become a children's pop star. I mean obviously, right? I could be the next Deedee Doodlebop. I watch this show EVERY TIME I BABYSIT. "No Caroline, we can't watch Diego. I'm watching my favorite show." Then, since I know all the words and the dance moves, she soon becomes convinced that a) The Doodlebops are the new light of her life, and b) I may be the coolest or strangest person ever. She hasn't quite decided. Don't get me wrong though: I heart Diego. EXCEPT! HE HAS NO NIPPLES!! There was an episode about blue whales and, woah. It was a lot to take at 8:00 am.

My mom called me the other day to ask for help with music. Specifically, she has bought a new computer, and wanted to know how to organize music. Woot. If there's ever a reason for my mom to call and ask for help, then this is it. It was so fun to tell her to download iTunes immediately: don't even open windows media player. Ever.


POI!! POI!! POI!! I'm an addict. I'm in fact, joining the circus next quarter to learn more. I'm soo cool.

I'm going to learn German this summer at the Goethe Institute. If Lauren isn't biking across America, she's going to learn it with me. I realized that not only does everyone I know speak German, but there's a lot of philosophy that I should read in German. I would say that more than other philosohpers, Germans use their langauge. Exploit it, one could say. And I want it on that.

When Alii moves out after school's over, LAUREN'S MOVING IN. Woot! I'll miss my Alii, but at least I'll live with the world's greatest punkin. I mean, gourd.

Heidegger is really cool. For example:
The nothing is complete negation of the totality of being.
Does not this characterization of teh nothing ultimately provide an indication of the direction from which alone the nothing can come to meet us?
The totalities of beings must be given in advance so as to be able to fall prey straightway to negation -- in which the nothing itself would be be manifest

Road Trip to Texas soon soon soon. Two and half weeks. Suggestions?

I had many more tasty tidbits of thoughts this weekend. More to come.

One Step Closer to Convincing the Greater Chicagoland Area that I am a GIANT LESBIAN

In a moment of frantic cleaning, I consolidated all our recycling into the silly hand cart, ready to be taken to the Co-Op at any moment. To get it a step or two closer, I even put this monument to hippie-dom on the back porch. Sir Neighbor came over and volunteered to take some of it in for us yesterday.

His reason: "I feel like I live next door to a colony of Lesbian winos."

GODDAMN MF-IN BULLSHIT

My House
Smoking
About to Nap
Ill
2:56 pm
Wednesday, Februay 15, 2005

GODDAMN MF-IN BULLSHIT

I am not awkward. Nope, never have been. I've been clumsy, anxious, ill-spoken, straight-forward, blunt, bitchy, out of place, uncomfortable, bumbling, confused, distressed and weired out. But AWKWARD? Obviously not. That's how I make other people feel, thank you very much.

But WHAT THE FUCK? I'm "dating" The Awkward One and it's about to drive me batty, if it hasn't already. I was okay with it in the beginning -- every Thing has it's week or so of awkward: do I hold your hand? is it okay to call? where are the boundaries? That I get. But then you move on, and that person becomes who you're comfortable with. Except no. I didn't think there was such thing as too awkward to function, I thought Katherine had the awkward arena pretty much covered, but no. I was wrong. Oh so wrong.

And it's not one thing, or any set of specific things. It's the whole goddamn situation. It feels the way fingers on a chalkboard sound. Being with him is not even fun anymore. The awkward has over stayed it's welcome. I'm tired of feeling as if it's something that I am even remotely in control of. I'm tired of attempting to make all situations as awkward-free as possible, feeling as if it's something that I can control. As if it were my problem, and not his own personal issue.

And we're not even sleeping together, thank God. I figure that would just be another awkward bag of fish that would be impossible to deal with too. And you know what's frustrating? And it's that.

It's not that I don't care for TAO -- I wouldn't still be around if that were the case. But I'm quickly approaching my breaking point: either you decide to let someone in (even if you don't know where that's going to lead), and get over the BULLSHIT (because that's what it is: bullshit) or you don't. And we need to do one or the other, or I'm gonna bail.

He is welcome to insist that I'm not his girlfriend multiple times in one day. Yes, that's right: I'm not his girlfriend. But let it be known that I'm not sure I'd ever want to be. More importantly, I worry that he's not capabale of connecting with someone on a real level, making girlfriendness, not only undesirable but impossible.

And if he reads this, he's going to freak. And by freak, I mean be awkward. More awkward then usual, if that's possible. His head will explode. And you know what? I DON'T CARE BECAUSE THIS IS GODDAMN MF-IN BULLSHIT.

Canasta, Cupid and Being Poked By God

UCSC
Should be working. . .
1:44 pm
Tuesday, February 14, 2005

Canasta, Cupid, and Being Poked by God


I have safely returned from the Land of Milk and Honey -- or Sourdough Bread and Wine as the case may be. And it was lovely. Beyond lovely. Transcendent, shall we say?

My Aunt Lori is as amazing as ever: insightful, straight forward, hilarious, discombobulated, and full of life. My Uncle Vick learned long ago to hold his tongue in a house full of women, yet retained his ingenious ability to take no shit without being an ass. Aunt Jaynie, as always, was like a sweater for my soul as my Grandma continues to be the sweetest person in the universe. If she were an animal, she would be a bunny rabbit. A baby bunny rabbit.

One day, I will live in San Francisco. This became clear immediately upon arrival. The fact that it's the only place in the world where the quality of food compares with Europe -- that alone made me a goner. Tie that to the ocean, the weather, the friendly people, public transit and a dedicated sense of Doing The Right and Healthy Thing makes it the town for me. A Ph.D in philosophy from the People's Republic of Berkeley. I only hope I'm that lucky. I could focus on Metaphysics. Yea, basically, that's what needs to happen.

"I would rather be a lucky man, then a good man."

Then, after tons of family and food, I played Canasta with Yitz. Let it to suffice to say it was good. The best kind of good I know. We were "those people," after spending ill-begotten funds on glorious wine. We got lost in the Tender Knob, enjoyed amazing view and connected. Connected in a way I haven't connected with another human being in a long time, perhaps ever. And he will show up on my doorstep before too long. I'll keep hoping it's tomorrow, and one day it will be.

Only, when that does happen, I'll probably be in OKC. The TBB is going to fly me to Oklahoma City (hopefully) sometime soon. But I, as always, take that with a gigantic slab of salt. Or heroin, which ever the case may be. This man I love is finally taking the steps needed to put himself in order. A scary step which I respect and admire greatly. Yet, I have a reticence to emotionally invest -- he may disappear tomorrow. So, what do I do? Keep on loving (as if I had a choice) without counting on him for emotional support. And deal with the fact that the Universe enjoys poking me. At least God finds my life entertaining, right?

Last but not least: Valentine's Day. I still feel exactly as I did one year ago today.

"On Valentine's Day though, I have a few thoughts. Why is it that people feel this is the day to express love? Why not Febraury 23? Or March 2? I feel that love is not expressed enough in general, and feeling like Febraury 14 is the day to do it because Hallmark tells you to is lame. I want to show the people I love that I love them more then one day a year. In fact, let's strive for everyday, with small displays of affection, caring, trust -- love. I saw so many people carrying bears and chocolates, flowers and cards, and I said, "That's so expected. Now if someone gave me flowers tomorrow, that would be exciting." Alii did buy me flowers though, since she's my surrogate boyfriend, and they are lovely. It's the principle really -- why should our ideas of love be shaped and controlled by commercial America? People don't touch enough, connect enough, love enough and being forced to do it on this specific day smacks of falsness, of insecurity, of striving for something not quite real. I'll take a quiet walk, a cup of coffee, real conversation and connection with someone worth connecting to anyday, over mandated flowers and chocolate on February 14."

I wish ya'll all the love and joy you deserve. And not just today, everday.

Yea, I'll Be Wearing Flowers in My Hair

On my couch!
With Lauren
Happy Suicide Prevention Day
2:21 pm
Friday, February 10, 2006

Yes, I'll Be Wearing Flowers in My Hair

I know, you all hate me.

This morning:
"Mostly cloudy with scattered snow flurries and snow showers. Low near 30F. Winds NNW at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of snow 30%"

This Evening:
"Abundant sunshine. High 67F. Winds N at 5 to 10 mph."

Email of "Itinerary and Food Plan" from my Auntie Lori
Cast of Characters: Aunt Lori and Uncle Vick -- my mom's brother and wife who used to be gypsies, Juanita -- Grandma Parks!! Woot! Aunt Jaynie -- my mom's sister. The first word I ever said was Nanie

Friday Daytime – Lori to go around and replace all the regular light bulbs with low, low wattage bulbs instead of running around like a crazed person trying to do all the things she should have done this last month. Vick should be working……………..

Friday Night – Vick and Lori to the airport to pick up Mom and Jaynie. After their luggage has been collected we will probably need to stop and find Juanita an Apple Martini (her favorite) while waiting for Mia to arrive. If Mia’s plane runs late we will leave a message for her to call us in the morning and we will come pick her up after breakfast. There will be the usual odd assortment of grazing opportunities in the fridge for those of us ready for our every 2 to 3 hour feed.

Saturday Daytime – Everyone will have Mia’s birthday cake for breakfast. I guess we really should go pick her up before we cut her cake? We will all have to check our sugar levels and decide then. Vick, Mia, and Jaynie will then tromp thru the City (or somewhere they can have chowder in a bread bowl for lunch) and not come home until dinner. Juanita will stay home with me and make me cookies/nap while I read/ nap then, she can read/nap while I cook dinner/drink wine.

Saturday Night – Mia may, or may not, have dinner with the rest of us before joining her friends for a rousing game of canasta at the local YMCA. Dinner will be: Rack of Pork, Garlic & Parmesan Noodles, Vegetable Melody, and a Green Salad (with sour dough bread or maybe yeast rolls????). Everyone is welcome to whatever is left of Mia’s cake. No one should plan on eating any of Lori’s Sugar Cookies.

Sunday Daytime – We are ALL taking the ferry over to the outdoor produce market at the Ferry Building in the City and we will sample our way thru it. It will be the perfect balance of fresh air, yummy goodies, and exercise to warrant an afternoon of naps/books/snacks until it is time for our very own family crab feed for dinner.

Sunday Night – A Crab Feed free-for-all complete with newspaper spread over the dinner table for easy clean-up.

Monday Daytime – Vick or I will take Mia to the airport at some ungodly hour of the morning. If Mia really loved us she would let us drop her off the night before – after the crab feed, of course. We will negotiate this later. Everyone may have ONE of Lori’s cookies for breakfast. Vick and Jaynie will go play golf while Juanita makes Lori more cookies. Juanita and Lori may go for a walk around the neighborhood. Juanita may want to make Vick some Ranger cookies – if she has time after our walk and before our nap. Vick and Jaynie will come in quietly from golf and take a nap like the rest of us.



I'm going to have the best Suicide Prevention Weekend ever. Woot, I say. Woot.

Quelques Choses que Je Fais

Mac Lab
Almost French Class Time
2:39 pm
Tuesday, February 7, 2005

Quelques Choses que Je Fais
Some Things That I'm Doing

• Writing in French about how you can read Candide as against Liebniz's Optimism. But only because I'm shooting for having amazing arguments to make up for my horrid grammer.
• Asking for an extension on my other paper (Uhh. . so I messed up. . . Can I turn it in late? Sure!)
• Not wanting to go to French class
• Spending TOO much time napping on my new couch!
• Not doing laudry
• Being happy that it's not cold beyond all reason
• Learning that chocolate milk has an amazing calming effect on three year olds
• Being excited about going to San Fran this weekend. Spee!
  
• Wishing I had a 27 hour day
• Not freaking out about Tall Blond Biochemists dramatically slamming back into my life. I really had let it go this time, damnit.
• Trusting in the universe
• Wanting to talk to my dad. Stupid non-concurrent schedules
  
• Having no idea how to make a medical claim with my insurance company from seeing Dr. Steve in France
• Missing France
• Mourning the passing of Chester P. Q. Naglesbee, Earl of Nagle.
  
• Kicking myself for waiting, WAITING for TBB to call. Goddamnit.
• Not thinking about the Talk of Dhoom I may have to have with a certain someone else
• Not having sex. Damnit.
• Not being late for class. I guess.