Dorm Life

This is my 7th semester living in the same dorm. I've been on the 3rd floor for two years, the 9th for one (and I would have been on it this year if not for health problems) and now I'm on the 2nd.

The dorm has 10 floors and the 1st is not residential.

Each floor has had its pluses - it's much quieter on the 9th, but when the elevator conks out or the fire alarm goes off, wow that's a lot of stairs.

And now I have a room near the elevator, so much noise outside my door and above my head as somebody walks their elephant nightly.

My first year I was on the Honors floor and we had earlier quiet hours, and I would turn on my TV and then stand in the hall to make sure it wasn't loud. I'm a bit... weird. I've had a number of roommates, and I'm the only one who watches TV with headphones on. I can't listen comfortably with another TV going.

Anyway, a lot of people say that rules in dorms treat college students like children. I say they make you act like you care about other people. The biggest is visiting hours - at least you can't sexile your roommate all night, I get to come back at midnight or 2am. My sister thinks living in an apartment will be quieter - HA!

This morning was the first fire alarm of the semester. It went off at 4am. We stood outside for more than 30 minutes. It was less than 30 degrees outside, and few people were dressed for it, because your main thought when that damn thing starts blaring is to get out as soon as possible.

My biggest dorm issues stem from noise - the pipes (I think) make this shhh noise, you can't hear anything over it, but there is one plus side to it. At home, when I hear a noise upstairs, there's no one up there, so I get scared. Mostly because my mom picks on me. But here? There are supposed to be people in the hall and upstairs and out my window.

My roommate this semester is awesome - she gets overheated too, so she didn't mind having the window open until we got the heat turned off. Well not "turned off" - it's 68 right now, but it's not 80 and the air isn't all heated and nasty. We may have to get it turned back on when it's AC time, though. And the people in charge - maintenance, desk workers, RAs, grown-ups working in Residence Life - all tell me to stand on the toilet, move a ceiling tile, and "there's a switch up there!" No. Just... No.

Some rambling, but gripes about rules always bother me - there's a reason, you're not the only person in the building, so shut up, it's 1am on a school night!

"It's from a movie!"

Today I needed a ride to my mom's job because my doctor appointment... blah blah blah.

I had to ride with Becky and her friend.

They watched "The Hangover" last night.

Within a couple minutes, Becky used the word "retarded" (or "retard") in a derogatory manner. ("That's so -" or "You're such a -") I objected and asked her not to use that word.

Her response?

"It was in the movie!"

It wasn't even a clever insult using derogatory, cruel language. Just a plain ol' insult. Used everywhere. (They also said other things from the movie about casinos - nothing funny to me, the third party who hadn't seen the movie. If you're going to quote a movie, shouldn't you use a funny or interesting quote to make somebody want to see it and not just go "Hee hee we have an in-joke!")

I didn't tell her this, because she doesn't care. But I wanted to say it. And hey, here's my blog. (She would see it if I said anything on Facebook.)

If you quote a movie, you are endorsing the use of the language in the quote. If I watched the Hangover and liked it, I would like it despite the use of the word "retarded." I would not go around using it, saying it's the movie. This was a phrase my sister liked and felt comfortable saying.

I can analyze a character's use of a word or bigoted thinking without endorsing it. (The difference between agreeing with the sexist BS on "The Simpsons" and analyzing it.) And I think that just repeating it is an endorsement. (Of course, you could be repeating it to go "WTFOMG can you believe they said that?" But that's not what happened.)

Another thing - using song lyrics as a status on Facebook, or anywhere else. My sister and my cousin and some friends do it all the time. I hate it. Some of the lyrics are disturbing, so my mom will ask her about it. "It's just a song!" If you felt comfortable enough to repeat it, you better be ready to explain it.

To sum up - do not hide behind the fact that you are using someone else's words when you say something offensive. You felt comfortable repeating it, that is the problem.

My depression is mean.

I am behind in school work.

I am in pain.

I do not need to be all weepy and tired and blah.

My stomach obeyed me last week when I wanted deviled eggs. Why won't my body listen now?

Anyways, I'm reading the comics. It's not quite as fun as taking the Sunday paper apart (after walking or riding my bike to get it) and getting to the comics last, around noon and spreading it out on the floor and gazing at the colors...

And no, you can't read the comics until I do! Why are you up anyways?

Back to the comics.

Today's Curtis made me laugh.



For some reason, Curtis always shrinks when I post it here. So in the interest of saving your peepers (and make my little read blog more accessible), here is a transcript (I used to have HTML skills, but I'm afraid this is too much for an ALT text):

1st panel - Inside. Michelle is walking away from Curtis, saying, "I am a child born for the limelight!"

2nd panel - Still inside. Michelle is facing Curtis. She is saying, "I used to crawl hearing Smokey and Little Richard! I took my first steps to Quincy and DeBarge!"

3rd panel - The bottom is curly, this is an illustration of a memory. It shows the baby Michelle - with huge eyes - tap dancing. Michelle's head is floating near the top and she continues, "When I was two, my mother enrolled me in dance class. I was a natural!"

4th panel - Back to the present, still inside. Michelle has her back to Curtis, she is angry because, "I was cast on the "Muppet Show" but was let go 'cause Miss Piggy was threatened by my flair for talent!"

Curtis responds, winking, "Can't upstage th' pig!"

It's the last panel. Particularly Curtis's response. Miss Piggy is THE diva of divas.

Maybe I don't really enjoy Curtis and say I do so I can be like, look at me, I'm reading a comic about black folks! I ain't racist. Where ya'll going? /bad southern accent

I don't know. Curtis doesn't make me laugh a lot, but there's this sweetness about it and an originality and creativity (have you seen the Kwanzaa strips?) that has little to do with the race of the characters. They live in the city. Money is tight. But they never age. Michelle and Curtis will never get together. The hat will never come off.

And that's ok.

In other news, today's Cracked is SO AWESOME! It's called "6 Mental Illness Myths Hollywood Wants You to Believe." So. Cool. (Even though it's riddled with errors, I think Cracked is pretty big. An article like this will hopefully change one person's mind.)

Also, this made me laugh, even though I nothing about old or new school video games. (I played the Sims. Not the Sims 2!)

Spoon Theory and Me (It's all about me)

I've been reading about the Spoon Theory and kinda going, yeah, that doesn't apply to me. (Basically, we all have a number of spoons that represent what we can do that day. Healthy, temporarily able bodied people (age will get us all!! Run!!) have an unlimited amount. Those not so able-bodied do not.)

Thinking about the Spoon Theory and applying it to my life is scary because dammit, if I write down that it hurts, then it really happened and it just won't go away. If I don't classify it, it's not there. Denial is awesome unless WILL YOU STOP STABBING ME. See?

But I do use it, I realized today.

I had a terrible night, could not fall asleep or stay asleep. Went to my 8 am class (hello Arabic!) in pain, a bit disoriented, just not steady on my feet. It was worse when I got out of class about an hour later.

So I laid down, planning to rest until lunch and then go to my one o'clock class.

Ate lunch around noon, no problems, a bit of pain, whatever.

But as I walked out, I was like, hey, hey, HEY! It's not supposed to hurt to walk. And this class is relatively far away when it's raining or I'm in pain. And then there's the hour and 25 minutes of uncomfortable sitting, followed by a bolt across campus to my next class.

I just sat down and cried. I still am. I hate it.

But I'm in my room, comfortable (though still in pain) on my bed, and I will go to my 2:40 class and hopefully make it through that hour and 25 minutes in one piece. Last Thursday, maybe I should have done that, because I reached a point in the latter class where thought escaped me. (Especially putting thoughts into French words.)

Maybe I'm not thinking of it as little spoons, but I know that if I went to my one o'clock, I couldn't go to my French class. And we're watching a movie in there. And the other class is all online - podcasts of the lectures, powerpoints, everything. Except on Thursday, I have to be there because I'm giving a presentation that I have totally started on.

Totally.

Gotta go.

I'm going to pretend I haven't posted since April.

Everyone has their own little superstitions, right?

Mine actually made me do something kind of good - I got out of my pajamas, despite the fact that I'm staying home today. (And tonight.)


I used to think you had to wear red, white, and blue today, or you'd get pinched or something. The consequences were murky, but dammit, you needed all three of those colors!

So today - gray shorts that say USA on one leg (cheap at Kohl's in... 04? 03?) and my Red Sox shirt from 04, for sure. It's my only blue shirt with red and white on it.

Silly, but what are you going to do?

I really should go to sleep...

This is so cute and silly.


see more puppies


Here's a bit of sleepy thinking - right before starting this, I looked down to see how late old party college girl was staying up and the computer clock said it was 1:01.

Odd.

I distinctly remember seeing 1:30 something on my alarm clock.

Oh! Clock change thing.

Yesterday (Friday), my friend Megan had on these half sleeves that started above the elbows and went down, and I told her they were cool. Then she stood up and put her wings on.

Huh?

Oh. Halloween. I told her I'd forget and remember that it was Halloween all day.

I saw a few people in costume, but outside of candy and less than twenty minutes of The Mothman Prophecies in Anthropology, nothing else Halloween came up. Wasn't even mentioned in French, like what are some French Halloween practices? (I did, however, try to convince my professor that he should cancel class as a Halloween treat. The door was locked and class was delayed like FIVE MINUTES. Awful.)

Halloween lost its appeal when I stopped trick-or-treating. Of course, there are Halloween parties, but I'm not a party person. I'm even awkward at my own.

I am in love with this dress.

I just checked out the book Best Dressed, which has pictures and descriptions of some the exhibits from the show Best Dressed: 250 Years of Style, which was at the Philadelphia Museum of Art in 1998.

This one is from the "Egyptomania" page in the book. It was made in 1923.

A few of the other dresses don't look incredibly old and dated as well, but this one. Wow. I'd wear that if I could. Everything is perfect about it - the loose sleeves, the colors, the shape.

I spent most of the summer looking for a decent informal summer type dress. I found two okay ones, but this is it. Even with sleeves.

I'm in love with contradictions.

Recently, I discovered Spongebob Squarepants. I love it, I think it's funnier than some other shows I've suffered through.

That being said, I will watch Hannah Montana if nothing else is on. However, there is no justification that can be made besides "it makes me laugh sometimes". However, they mix up their stereotypes. They're from Tennessee, and yet Jackson went to school on his first day in Malibu in a cowboy outfit. There are rodeos here, but still. Now, a hunting outfit is a Tennessee stereotype.

The contradictions of my brain became apparent yesterday as I watched Phil of the Future (hilarious and good), followed by an hour of Spongebob.

While reading the graphic adaptation of Howard Zinn's A People's History of American Empire.

Seriously.


Of course, this is not the first time that the contradictions of my personality have shown themselves in such obvious ways.

Right after I got my eyebrow pierced, I went next door and bought a bunch of Archie comics.

Early this spring, I finished a paper and then went outside and blew bubbles. Before going to see an amazing speaker on race.

After my graduation ceremony, I bought a bunch of MAD magazines at an antique store. While dressed up. At the party later on, we had a piñata.

Eek, Recess is on! Ssh!

Thanks a lot, internet!

I've been away from the internet since the 19th. That wasn't the plan. The plan was I would use someone's wireless internet, only it never worked. Oh, I got on the laptop a few times to look things up and make sure my e-mail wasn't completely out of control, but still.

And today, I got around to checking out Francesco Explains It All. (He does the writing for Sally Forth.) I haven't read all the posts yet, but this one made me do something I will regret for a long time: I looked up my name in the Urban Dictionary. Two of the entries were flattering and practically identical, but the other two were creepy.

Not to mention they don't make sense - how can I be hot two times over, but also be a vaginal sore and red colored jello induced flatulence.

Now I'm going to look up my sister's name.

She's a hot chick, but she's also a man who pretends to be a girl to hook up with lesbians. Online, of course. In addition to sounding like a chipmunk and looking like a transvestite. Someone got dumped by a Rebecca.

God, the urban dictionary is weird.

My poor mom is slang for penis.

I looked up our last name, but I kind of already knew what to expect.

And last but not least, my blog's name. Nothing creepy about it. A good time to stop doing this.

Rhymes With Orange made me laugh.

Here:


I am loving my first summer weekend.

I'm a bit lazier than usual - no walking to the Tiger Den to get some food - but there's no guilt, no worries, no assignments.

I have a worry doll. My sister got it for me in New Mexico. (It's from Guatemala - they have World Markets in Albuquerque!)

I used it every night in school. Friday night (er, Saturday morning), I slept in my bed for the first time since coming home. I picked up the worry doll and said, "I'm worried about the pain." Then I was like, wow. That's it. So I put the worry doll on my dresser. No need for it now!

This is so weird.

I cannot handle somebody breathing or talking to my back.

No, I don't mean I need to look somebody in the eye, I just cannot stand it when breath touches my back.

It hasn't been an issue in a long time, because it usually happens when I'm in a cramped line, like the ones used in elementary and middle school.

If somebody was too close, my back would start twitching, it just feels bad.

It may be similar to being tickled, but it's never pleasant.

Just now, I moved back a bit, I wanted to try to lay down. Well, Wickett was on the top cushion next to my pillows.

He started growling and I freaked out. My back was prickling, nothing could stop it, not even getting away from him! I tried to put a blanket over my back, it didn't work.

I was shrieking at him, practically begging him to get off the couch. It bothers me so much.

I had to get him a bone to get him off the couch.

I just don't get him - if he's so damn mad, why doesn't he leave? Go somewhere without a human?

I can still feel it, but it's a bit better.

Does anybody know what I'm talking about?

I have a job!

Almost.

I have to pass the test next week - get at least 70 questions right out of 100. It will be a review of what I learned this week.

My first paying job - house/dog sitting doesn't count for the IRS or resume purposes.

I'm so excited and so damn nervous and terrified.

I'll be working to the Phonathon.

My job is calling alumni and asking for pledges and updating their contact information - address, job, phone number, living status. Most of the people I'll talk to won't be able to give more than 3 figures, but that's okay.

Every pledge does matter, and that's something I now believe, not just what I must repeat to keep my job.

The hours are 5:30pm to 9pm - aren't they great? 3 hours after my latest class, and early enough for sleep (Daily Show and Colbert Report).

I must work 3 nights - and I've picked Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. We're only work Sunday through Thursday - less chance of grown-up alumni being out partying.

My first training session was tonight from 5:30 to 9pm, officially. I got there around 5 and left at 9:15.

I was nauseous all day, and my upper back has been hurting for the last couple days, probably because of nerves, since I'm not doing anything different.

I was terrified at first, with all the responsibility laid out. But then I realized I don't have to do this, even though I said I'd do work-study, I don't need the money now because of all my scholarship and financial aid. Also, since we were there more than 3 hours, we had time to get comfortable with the idea, at least I did. Unlike my classes in a week, this was and will be much longer, and part of the eek of the first day/week of school is the fact that it's about an hour spent in the class - with everything thrown at you at once, and no time that day to adjust to it - with the teacher.

I had so much fun.

I told my boss (Assistant Director) that I was an evil robot who wanted to take over the world, not that I'd tell him if I was in the first place. (One of the rules of calling people - don't be a robot on the phone.)

My ideas for why people would give were all sinister - I blame Law & Order reruns all summer. I said to hide money, like say to pay for killing a guy. He said that wasn't realistic, he wouldn't think of that after killing a man for money. I also said people wouldn't give us money because the Grizzlies didn't make it... Oh, we're the Tigers. Whoops. (What reasons could there be not to donate? The number one reason, that nobody guessed, is death. Of the alumni.)

He mentioned the Red Sox, and I said, "You're supposed to be a Mariners fan." (Earlier, he'd said he was raised in Seattle. That's part of the job, too, at world series time. Unless I'm calling a New Yorker, who knows if they like the Mets or the Yankees? They're Tigers, they're decent people, they like the Mets.)

He said he liked the Cubs, and I said, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

That got a laugh.

I had a lot of fun.

I can't wait.

And I'm moving in Thursday and meeting my roommate. (We've e-mailed and talked on the phone.)

And classes start in less than a week.

How did I get to this place? I don't recall summer asking my permission to end!



I know how I got to the training session point - only half of the applicants make it this far, and over 75 have applied for the fall semester. They need to know that you can do this job and do it well.

Anyways, we sent in paper application, then had to phone interview. The genius that I am, I set my appointment for last Monday the same day I got called by the people for the first time - my logic was, get it out of the way as soon as possible. I mispronounced some words, and even though I tried to make it my own, I followed the script in some places, and I felt myself screw up the pacing and inflection of my voice in regards to a sentence thanks to a misplaced comma.

But I've still almost got the job.

The interviewer (the AD that's training us) wouldn't confirm or deny it, but I know.

One of the reasons listed to give money included research - giving us money to continue old research and start new projects. Well, I know we have an earthquake research facility - I've seen the building, and there was a book about an earthquake here that mentioned it. So, I told the "prospect" that if he didn't give me $50 or $25 (forgot most of it after I did it) Memphis and the University would end up in the Mississippi because we'd have to close our research center.

When I did the interview, I said that I knew I couldn't do that during an actual call.

And when I called again about directions to the training, I said,"Did the earthquake play a part?" He laughed and said he couldn't say.

Then at the training session, he said don't threaten the alumni with acts of God. And he didn't know it was me that did the earthquake, since he handled 60+ interviews in a 2 week period, but he did remember some odd interviews, including the threat.

As to its effectiveness, I said I wanted to be remembered. Again, he didn't know it was me. "But I'm here tonight, aren't I?"

Wickett and his Chair

He went under there butt first.

I saw a shadow without the flash of a camera.

I love this dog.




My birthday is today, I'm 19!

I must apologize for the long links list.

The 'Interesting Websites' one in particular.

Blogs are personal websites, and mine is a particularly dull one that has few visitors.

So it's mostly here for my enjoyment.

It's also useful.

With the high speed internet, we got rid of Compuserve, which meant I lost every favorite I had there. I don't want to have another favorites list here, I'm not sure why really, it doesn't matter.

So the links lists act as my favorites - especially since I'll be switching computers in less than a month. It's nice to have them saved online, where I can always find them.

I started before we got rid of Compuserve, because Compuserve got a little weird, and had to be reinstalled or something, so we lost all our favorites and Becky lost her the user account she was using at the time, though it still existed - she had to log on as a guest to get it.

Becky's favorites are saved to her desktop - she can just click on an icon and instantly be at MySpace! She's too worried about what her idiot friends might do, though, so she's not always logged in. It's usually one guy who's not really her friend, he just hangs out with everyone. he got a number from her cell and harassed this girl, one of Becky's coworkers. So she's keeping herself logged out.

That's it.

I think the links provide a short picture of my interests, but then, so does everybody's.

I can't wait to own this place.

That's what I thought after orientation was over and I was walking from the bookstore to Richardson Towers.

It's beautiful when it's not too hot. (When it's hot, and you have to walk, nothing is beautiful.)

By 'own it', I meant I wanted to be familiar and comfortable and zip my way around campus on my bike. (But no puppy in the basket!)

Orientation was Thursday and Friday. It was the first orientation session, and the best for us, since parents had to come (or were strongly urged to attend) and Mom's having surgery this week that would make orientation impossible. But it will greatly improve her life, I hope.

Orientation was boring and overwhelming at the same time.

Boring because we heard things that we'd read on the handouts, read on the website, heard from administrators before, and what we'd heard since middle school!

Pain in the ass. I was "required" to go to a financial aid workshop, and it was mostly about loans. And they didn't check roll.

But it was a lot of fun.

Thursday was cloudy and cool, and most of the buildings were freezing, and most of us were in shorts. Friday was hot and mostly sunny, and the buildings were not always freezing. We had to go to a career seminar before we could go on our own to register or tour the library or go to that workshop.

We'd been told Thursday that we should sit up front or at least in the "T". So after that, I sat in the first few rows everywhere, including the career seminar, which was embarrassing, because I got overheated, and I had to get out of there now, and I was in the front row!

But I left. My health matters more than hearing the same thing over and over again.

I went and took the French placement test. It didn't take the projected 20 minutes to half an hour, but I didn't make it into French 2. The minimum for that was 280 and I got 239. I'm glad. The last year I took French was my junior year, which is now 2 years behind me. I was going to take French 3 my senior, but they didn't bother tell me I couldn't until the Friday before school started - after registration! (Not enough people signed up, and this was an Honors course, which required an 'essay' (paragraph of lies) about why you wanted to take this test, and a parent's signature! It still bugs me, though not as much.

There was a party at the rec center Thursday night, and I didn't go. Apparently, everyone went between 6:45 and 7, even though our schedule said 7:30. They provided transportation back to Richardson Towers afterwards, but not before. I'd done a lot of walking that day, and I was exhausted. My mom could have driven me there, but I said no. I read outside, and then went to my room, which I'll get to later.

The food was okay, and I ate every meal alone except lunch on Thursday. Parents and students had separate dinners that night, and breakfast the next morning was only for parents who stayed in the towers, though my mom could have eaten with me. And lunchwas hot dogs and chips in Brister on floor below where we actually registered, and somebody had a doctor's appointment.

I'm not going in chronological order, am I?

My mom learned some things that I wished they'd told us. AP classes, dual enrollment, and home school transcripts don't mean that much at the bottom line - it's your ACT or SAT scores. (ACT, mostly. I don't know why it's the southern test, but I got a 29 the first time and a 30 the next - no studying!)

I knew nobody there, because I graduated a year earlier. They were nice, but I didn't recognize a soul.

We were assigned roommates, but mine decided to sleep in a friend's room. (I'm guessing her friend didn't have one or the roommate was willing to leave.)

However, I needed a roommate. My fentanyl patches, at their current size, do best along my spine, especially up high. They're less likely to get peeled up or moved, the higher and more centered they are. It's next to impossible to place it there yourself. I haven't tried at the risk of wasting a patch. My mom thought it was best on my abdomen, since that's where the pain is, but it's not. It was covered with tape by the second day.

Luckily, she agreed to do it. Though I probably weirded her out, it had to be done.

She did a great job, placing it directly above the last sight, which was a bright red, irritated square. (Sweat is the enemy, plus I rode my bike the day before.)

But it didn't stay. I walked and sweated Friday, I rode my bike and sweated Saturday, and Sunday I woke up and tape fell off. (It had to be taped Saturday.) It was off by 2. I got up, and walked into the kitchen, and it fell off.

However, I didn't have any pain in the next 6-7 hours. That's great, I can probably be weaned off next time I see the doctor! (I saw him Tuesday and said no, let's keep everything where it is.)

Back to orientation. I won free speakers for asking a lot of questions during the morning lectures, including one on the IT department. I asked so many (and sat in the front row) that another person in the department offered me a job there in the fall if I wanted it. That was cool. I felt bold after the whole patch thing.

My mom also asked a lot of questions. She was a bitch, because very few parents questioned anything. When she was told Friday morning (we wee froshies were at the career thing) that we had to pay $200 when we registered, she was pissed. It was not on the schedule or any of the information we'd been given the day before or that came in the mail.

She told the speaker that she would get me and leave if we had to pay $200 to register. Luckily, this other woman talked to her and got my name. I saw her at registration and she told me to tell my mom it was taken care of.

Registration was the last thing we had to do before we could leave, and it was so scary. I'm taking 3 honors courses - English, Acad, and a required Honors course. I'm also taking the first math listed on the math sheet and French 1, or whatever the numbers are.

I think I have only one class on Friday. And I'm done by 2 at the latest, and 8 at the earliest.

It's going to be so cool.

Thursday morning, when somebody was discussing scheduling your time, making sure you have time for your classes and studies, blah blah blah, I started crying. Luckily, this was before I sat up front.

I think I cried because I was scared, I was strongly reminded of the psych ward by a number of things, and hey, I am coming off the Lupron, and that puts you in artificial menopause. Last Tuesday, I also started crying. It was so bad Lois took me home early from the Crisis Center.

Some of the things that reminded me of the psych ward - the isolation, the helicopter pad in front of Richardson, the starkness of our rooms, and the feeling that if something goes wrong, it's your fault.

All completely stupid.

One cool thing later on Thursday, was when we split up to go to our colleges (Arts and Sciences, Business, Nursing, etc.) and then our majors. I was the only foreign language major, so I got one-on-one time with the advisor (he was the Spanish advisor, I'll have a different one when school starts), while most everybody had to make appointments for later in the day.

I am all over the map here.

I bought 2 books with mom's money. One is the required reading for all freshmen. (We all have to take the same Gen Ed courses.) That was Thursday morning, and it's speeches by Martin Luther King, Jr. Friday afternoon I bought a Rolling Stone with Johnny Depp and Keith Richards on the cover at the bookstore - before signing up to preorder my books. That was from my lunch money, but since it was provided at registration, Johnny will have to do.

As for transportation, they only talked about cars with the parents, naturally. Basically, if you plan to live on campus, a car is a liability, not an asset. Which is different from what the students from more rural areas are used to. Or even here, there's nothing to do within walking or biking distance besides the library or nothing. (You seriously want to hang out at Wal-Mart?)

I'm glad, it means I don't have to learn to drive yet. Ha!

Things they should have done:

• Provided more infortmation on the schedules. Like the fact that lunch was provided Friday or the $200 registration fee!
• Offered transportation to the rec center for Thursday's party.
• Told the students and parents the same things, or let us attend more seminars together. Especially the one about the costs, since some students didn't have a parent with them, how will they know everything they need to know as soon as possible?
• For an extra fee, let us stay with current students who are in a double for the summer but have no roommate. That way we can see what a room can look like and we can hear the unvarnished truth.
  
• Hold it in winter!

See you at Frosh Camp!

In answer to Violet's questions -

Yes, I've been in pain, and yes, it has been too nice outside.

First, my doctor decided to increase my Lyrica week by week about 2 and a half weeks ago.

I started on the 15th. I was taking 300mgs a day (100mgs 3 times a day) and he wanted me to add an extra pill each week. I started by adding it to the evening slot. That Tuesday night, I was exhausted, and fell asleep around seven something that night and didn't wake up until Wednesday morning. I was very sick that morning - dizzy, nauseous, and my vision got blurred. The third was the scariest, as you can imagine.

My mom called my dad and made him come over until she decided that he'd check my sister out, because she wanted someone with me.

I got better and better until last Sunday, when it was time to add the next pill. I took it in the morning, and was fine until 5 o'clock that afternoon, when I got incredibly overheated (in shorts and a t-shirt), nauseous, and dizzy. Only this time, I threw up. I was asleep by 6 and did not wake up until 8:30 the next morning, when my mom came up to check on me.

I increased the Lyrica to stop the pain. It did not do that, and Monday, I was told to decrease the Lyrica until I stopped it. I took 2 Tuesday and Wednesday and just one on Thursday. I came off of it okay.

Wednesday, the doctor decided to try to just take care of the pain since I wasn't responding to nerve medication or my usual pain medication.

Wednesday night, I started wearing a fentanyl patch. I ran out of pain pills on Thursday, I was in horrible pain on Friday and it did not go away until yesterday, late in the morning. And even then it still cycled through. Friday, the doctor said I was to wear 2 patches at once.

I'm pain free and not even particularly cloudy right now. It's great.

So I haven't had the mental energy to do this, and Friday I realized I forgot the video.

And the dogs have been really ugly.

And yesterday, mom made me go to yard sales and then we rode bikes around town (don't eat hot shrimp when you're overheated - very sick to my stomach until we got home) and then I fell asleep for an hour watching the Cubs kick some Cardinal feathers.

It's been very nice outside, and we have a swing now to replace the trampoline.

I haven't had the desire to write, and when I have, I haven't had anything to say.

Of all the places to hide easter Eggs,

"back in the chicken" is perhaps the worst.
Love, Dad



Random puppies are much cuter than bunnies or chickens when it comes to Easter.

Whoever took thse puppy pictures, thank you, they are adorable and I saved them because it was 'cute Mikey' and they were used (along with Johnny Depp) to lure me back to the message board when it allowed lurking.

I know why cute animals like bunnies (and puppies! ) are associated with Easter. The real reason has nothing to do with bunnies being fertile and Jesus coming back to life or stolen pagan holidays, no, it is much more, um sinister than that. According to a book (books don't lie), bunnies are associated with Easter because Jesus was at a wedding (water into wine) and learned that his cousin, John the Baptist had died. He got drunk and ended up holding a little girl's bunny that she'd brought to wedding for whatever reason. So he tells the writer that whenever he's sad, there should be bunnies. Then he passed out.

Makes sense.

By the way, how can candy smell like smoke?

Thank god for foil and plastic, let me tell you!

Thanks dad.

My sister and I just have an odd relationship.

That is her attempt to get a picture of us together at the bowling alley the 12th. That's the one with the most of her face. She's great with a camera usually, but she just couldn't get a picture of herself!

Anyways, today we were screaming at each other and a few minutes later getting along fine.

She's going on a trip next weekend and she was thinking of burning songs from the computer onto a CD, only she didn't have a CD player that doesn't skip. (My old one.)

And I offered her the headphones of my mp3 player and then I decided to just let her use the player for the whole trip.

Why?

I have no idea.

My plan is to empty it of all my songs, then when she's asleep or at school, put her songs (she'll try to make me a list - over 200 songs) on it. When she gets back, remove her songs, put mine back on. Easy.

Here's the player - I like to call it an iPod, and mom calls all mp3 players iPods and it drives Mom wild. It was a lot cheaper than an iPod and it has 1GB of storage. It can also play radio stations, but I can't get that to work. One thing that is better about the iPod is that you can have playlists. This just takes what you upload, jumbles it up, and keeps the songs in that order. Still better than a CD player or nothing.

Sleepiness is evil.

I've been exhausted most of today, and took a nap for less than an hour today. 5:05, the doctor's office called and I had to talk to the nurse. I asked my mom before I laid down to wake me up at 6 so I could take my meds, and she did.

I've been tired since, but I didn't go to sleep because I needed to watch the Daily Show and Colbert Report tonight, because I'm going to the Crisis Center tomorrow, and the show reruns at 9am and 1pm, when I'll be at work. It also airs again at midnight, but if I missed the 10 o'clock showing by sleeping, I'd probably miss the midnight one as well. The only other chance I'd have would be tomorrow at seven, and NCIS is on.

So at ten, I laid down on the couch (the short one, because Wickett had the long couch to himself - he just stretched. He's on his back, legs in the air. What a crabby cutie. He'd yell for ten minutes if I tried to sit on his couch, let alone stretch out on it) to watch the Daily Show.

And during the first commercial, I felt myself nodding off.

I had to stop it!

So I sat here, at the computer. (Stewart said something about "needle in a haystack" - "no, he's like a person in the ocean!" - so he's to blame for the previous post.)

Sitting up on a computer chair stops nodding off better than laying down on the couch with blankets and pillows, for some odd reason.

So, during commercials, I looked up the tv grid on zap2it.com and discovered that there are two great old Twilight Zone episodes on at midnight and then an episode of the X-files - "The Goldberg Variation" - at one in the morning. I haven't seen it in years, and I liked it, so I have to watch it.

So I won't get to sleep until 2, unless I stretch out on the couch at midnight and drift off during a commercial (it happened during the Daily Show before).

I planned to be responsible and go to sleep at 11pm, because my job starts at 9pm, and I need to be awake by 8:45 at the latest.

But no...

Now I won't go to bed until 2, all because I looked up the tv guide to find out what episode of Sabrina the Teenage Witch is on tomorrow afternoon. And since it's a customized grid, the sci-fi channel is in the top spot, with an all too alluring X-files title there tonight.

Normally, if I sleep during the day, even for an hour, I'm wired until 2am period.

But tonight I was still tired and I will squander that on the X-files.

Sad.

Luckily, Mom and Beck will wake me up before they leave for work and school just like they did this morning - around 6 today, they woke me up and told me to take my morning meds, just like I asked. I didn't fall asleep until after 3 something yesterday morning, so I didn't stay up long this morning. I woke up for real around 9 today, but I don't have that luxury tomorrow.

I'll survive, though I'm in massive pain right now. My gyn cut my Lyrica dosage by a third on March 14, and I don't think it was the right idea. The pain is much sharper and I've had the same pain along my right hip that I had before I started the Lyrica in November.

I'm calling tomorrow and asking for it to be upped back to 3 times a day, so the pain won't be so damn sucky.

The Tigers are in the Elite Eight!

For the second year in a row, according to the liberal media, but I actually saw the last few moments, so I know the truth and the truthiness.

They're playing Ohio State on Saturday. It would have been awesome if the University of Tennessee had won that game! (By one point, which is how many points Texas A&M was behind at the end. Close, close games.) My sister said people had on Tennessee pants and Memphis shirts yesterday.

The bet for my crazy family was that they'd go to school(work) tomorrow if the Tigers won. So after the game, mom called her friend and coworker and said, "I'm coming in tomorrow."

Mom works at a high school with a bunch of high school idiots, but nobody that she saw had blue hair.

Becky is sick, which was sort of inevitable. It's allergy season and the temperature's bouncing. Becky *achoo* swears *achoo* that *achoo* she [take the damn benadryl!] has no allergies, but cotton fluff fluffering about irritates almost everyone, myself included.

Lucky for me, two benadryl, a sudafed PE, and a chloraseptic lozenge work wonders in the morning. We finally turned the AC on last night since it was in the '80s and they'd do anything to shut up Hot-flash-having-apathetic-about-basketball girl.

"The game starts at 6! You'll have to watch the Simpsons in the study!"

Okay.

I took some dinner back there and came out at a commercial break to get more, and what do you know? The basketball game on CBS has the exact same commercial on at the same time as the Simpsons on CW!

That was their story.

The Simpsons was pretty good - the one where Bart got an elephant. Someone at SNPP said it was too outlandish, but I thought, watching it, that it made as much sense as anything else. Bart's a nut. Offered ten thousand dollars or an elephant, he takes the elephant. Wouldn't you?

No.

But Bart did.


As for blue-haired Becky, she got taken to the principal's office almost as soon as she got off the bus yesterday. The lady who took her there kept saying that she was violating the dress code, and Becky just said she'd dyed her hair blue earlier in the school year and no one said boo. The principal sided with Becky (no, she didn't magically become a tenured teacher, she's still in 10th grade, shocking, I know) and said that it wasn't against dress code.

But it probably will be next year.

I'm rereading Wicked by Gregory Maguire. I think I've read this more often than I've watched the Wizard of Oz, but probably not as often as I've read The Wizard of Oz. My mom's mom sent it to us, it was my mom's back in the days of dinosaurs (she was born in Roswell, people! who knows what the government does in the New Mexico desert. Only the shadow puppy knows and I threw him outside.) and now it's mine. I've only read it more because I've had it longer.

Wicked draws from both the book and the movie. The movie, well, the color of her skin. I'm sure it would have been in the original book if she'd been green.

Some things about the Wizard of Oz movie - it's been said before, but I'll say it again. The "good fairy" was just mean in the movie, making her go to the Emerald City when she could have gone straight home. And, I forgot who said this, sorry. It wasn't a sappy movie, it didn't have a happy ending. Crazy Lady was still going to take away Toto the next day! (Wickett's been compared to Toto - black, little, in my bike basket yelling at everyone.)

I wish the movie had stayed truer to the book. You know they cut it in half? Glinda didn't rescue her in the Emerald City, she had to keep going.

My US History teacher used the Wizard of Oz movie as a metaphor for the Great Depression, saying the symbolism in the movie was put in to make the country feel better (symbol - yellow brick road=money). I asked, "How can it be about the Great Depression if it was written at the turn of last century?" The general answer was "just play along, we're talking about the movie, don't confuse everyone."

Our test over the Great Depression was like every other test - I missed one or two of the multiple choice or fill in the blank, but did more than the 2 essay(paragraph) questions required, so my scores were always at least 100. And I did the essay question about the Wizard of Oz, I think comparing the poppies as an obstacle to Emerald City to alcohol and drugs as an obstacle to fiscal solvency, or something.

My History and English teacher my junior year are to blame for my confidence in my writing skills. I got an A+ on my History paper. (Minimum 4 pages, and I turned in 8 and a half. He told me that I failed, because I'd asked if it could be more than the minimum and he sighed and said, "You can turn in a 10 page paper." Since it wasn't 10 pages, darn! The reason I asked was because our English research papers could only be so long, she wanted us to do the basics, she didn't want to grade 10 page papers. 2 was enough.) And my English one she wanted to use as an example for later classes.

We had to keep a History journal, with a question about the lesson almost every day that we had to answer before learning the information. Our journals were graded weekly, and except for one or two times, I got 100s the whole way - his handwriting was worse than mine. I like to read through it now, almost 2 years later, for an ego boost. "Look! Someone who went to college to teach things thinks I'm smart!"

I didn't get the highest grade on the final, because it was scantron, no chance for creativity. Poo. But I still aced the class merrily, and enjoyed his semester discussion class the next year as a senior (again with the journals). And he told me there were kids as good as I was when it came to retaining knowledge, but no one quite at my rhetorical level.

What.

I don't fit the beauty scene, I don't fit the social scene, the one thing I do fit and adore, I'm good at! Or I was.

And I will be.

"Small, discussion based classes." Describing what I get in the Honors Program because I'm not an ordinary student, I deserve more than an ordinary class. (The dogs didn't get the significance of this either.)

Like one of my message board friends pointed out, some of the classes would be better if I was on pain meds. Ha!

Seriously, I will be better.

Not 100%, I don't have '10 years'(that's how long some women have suffered from endometriosis before discovering that no, it was really a bowel problem, according to my doctor. He's really great, though, a pain specialist and a gyn. Who has no answers, because he doesn't even know the right questions.), but I am hoping for at least more than 50% of the pain gone.

I'll take up voodoo in July, let you know how it turns out, surely I can transfer the pain to someone deserving?

On one of the help pages "how to get your blog read", one of the tips is keep it short.



I say Ack!!! Thppppth!!!! to that.


It's my blog, for my pleasure, and I can fire a commenter for not being loyal to Dixie, but I won't say that under oath and you can't get a transcript of it.*


*That should lead to kicking the Republicans out of the executive branch more than the wiretaps, torture, the catastrofuck of the war, leaking names, turning us into a Christian theocracy (much better than a Muslim one), and No Child Left Behind. (Most educators loathe NCLB, which doesn't help them, it only continues the stereotype that they're liberal commies. NCLB is just part of getting the rich, deserving kids into private schools and giving everyone else vouchers to save them from the horrors of public schools that are held accountable to the community, if the community gives a damn.)

I mean really. His advisors won't swear to tell the truth and we'll have no evidence of the meeting? Do they still tape everything? Instead of 18 minutes missing, I'd say 6 years would be missing from those.

This shows that he thinks he's above the people, he or his office shouldn't be held accountable for his/its actions. A Republican congress led the impeachment against Clinton, why won't the Democrats do the same? Yes, it is a lack of backbone - impeach the president? During the war on terror? Are you mad? We'll be accused of treason by Ann Coulter.

Ann Coulter!

And possibly Sean Hannity!

We can't chance that.

But it's also the fact that besides Zell Miller challenging Chris Matthews to a duel (I wish he'd slapped him with a glove, like Stephen Colbert did to Jon Stewart while reporting on it - Indecision 2004 DVD, so awesome), the democratic congresspeople aren't as angry and vicious, and have stoned academics backing them.

There was a bit in the paper yesterday comparing Vietnam protests almost 40 years ago to the Iraq protests of today. It said something that is so true - there's no draft. Back then, apparently, you knew at least one person who was over there, and if you were a guy, there was this chance you'd go.

Now that it's all volunteer, college students aren't in danger of flunking out and being drafted, no one is going there against their will - officially. You sign up for the National Guard, to protect the area in case of a storm, and now you're going to Iraq for the second time in 4 years. (Our local one.) They change the rules, allowing those with tattoos that show beyond the dress uniform and those with mental illnesses such as depression or autism.

Pardon me while I vomit.