Arbitrary Chronicles

Google Bomb

2006-11-02T08:22:00.000-05:00

--AZ-Sen: Jon Kyl

--AZ-01: Rick Renzi

--AZ-05: J.D. Hayworth

--CA-04: John Doolittle

--CA-11: Richard Pombo

--CA-50: Brian Bilbray

--CO-04: Marilyn Musgrave

--CO-05: Doug Lamborn

--CO-07: Rick O'Donnell

--CT-04: Christopher Shays

--FL-13: Vernon Buchanan

--FL-16: Joe Negron

--FL-22: Clay Shaw

--ID-01: Bill Sali

--IL-06: Peter Roskam

--IL-10: Mark Kirk

--IL-14: Dennis Hastert

--IN-02: Chris Chocola

--IN-08: John Hostettler

--IA-01: Mike Whalen

--KS-02: Jim Ryun

--KY-03: Anne Northup

--KY-04: Geoff Davis

--MD-Sen: Michael Steele

--MN-01: Gil Gutknecht

--MN-06: Michele Bachmann

--MO-Sen: Jim Talent

--MT-Sen: Conrad Burns

--NV-03: Jon Porter

--NH-02: Charlie Bass

--NJ-07: Mike Ferguson

--NM-01: Heather Wilson

--NY-03: Peter King

--NY-20: John Sweeney

--NY-26: Tom Reynolds

--NY-29: Randy Kuhl

--NC-08: Robin Hayes

--NC-11: Charles Taylor

--OH-01: Steve Chabot

--OH-02: Jean Schmidt

--OH-15: Deborah Pryce

--OH-18: Joy Padgett

--PA-04: Melissa Hart

--PA-07: Curt Weldon

--PA-08: Mike Fitzpatrick

--PA-10: Don Sherwood

--RI-Sen: Lincoln Chafee

--TN-Sen: Bob Corker

--VA-Sen: George Allen

--VA-10: Frank Wolf

--WA-Sen: Mike McGavick

--WA-08: Dave Reichert

I Keep Burning My Toast

2006-08-05T20:04:00.000-04:00

I keep burning my toast, and I'm thinking to myself, how hard can it be to make toast? I mean, with the first two slices, ok, it happens. But with the second two I'm feeling like an absolute failure. Like my life is ruined. I'm nearly crying. Nevermind that it's a little more difficult to make toast in a toaster oven when you've been raised on a toaster. There's no lever-and-dial-combo on a toaster oven. There's just two dials, and there's a science to getting both dials just right. So I've burnt my toast. Recently I've been being very frugal, trying not to waste anything, eating the ends of the bread, and when I'd burnt toast (only the first two slices, of course, learning from my mistakes) I'd eat it anyway. Once I slather it with that yogurt spread and the organic strawberry spread (that I keep telling anyone who will listen is the food of the gods nevermind the fact that it may be causing my intestinal problems), you can't really tell it's burnt. But not today. Today, four slices of bread go in the trash. I'm feeling kind of reckless. Maybe because my boyfriend is at another woman's house, drinking daiquiris and most likely sleeping with her. Nevermind that we're in an open relationship, so this should be okay. Nevermind that it wasn't all that long ago that I told him if he wanted to have sex on a regular basis, he should find someone else to do it with. But that was when something was wrong with me, and every time we had sex it hurt. Now things are better. I mean, we've had sex three times in the last thirty six hours AND we went to work. And when I think about it, it's not like I want monogamy. It's not like I want to take the ability to have something with another person off the table. It's just that I didn't want to burn my toast.

MY IDENTITY WAS STOLEN!!!

2006-03-23T09:26:00.000-05:00

By someone really into computers:

$560 Upgradedmemory.com
$1200 Apple
$1600 Dell

An Arbitrary Milestone

2006-03-21T11:33:00.000-05:00

I feel like Dean for pointing this out...

This Looks Fun

2006-03-16T21:46:00.001-05:00

4 jobs you've had:
Door Hanger (going door-to-door, hanging menus)
Hockey Stadium Assistant Vending Manager
Farm Hand
Package Handler

4 movies you would watch over and over:
Lord of the Rings Trilogy
Almost Famous
Dead Poets Society
Napoleon Dynamite

4 places you've lived:
Tallahassee
New Orleans
Columbus
Cincinnati

4 places you've been on vacation:
San Diego
Nassau
Vail
Cancun

4 websites you visit daily:
Go Fug Yourself
Post Secret
Weather.com
The Daily Show

4 of your favorite foods:
Skyline Chili
Little Italy's Fettuccini Al Forno
Strawberries
Chocolate-Dipped Donuts

4 places you would rather be right now:
In bed with Ryan, with nowhere to be
In San Francisco with Kent
In a club with Playko
In Ohio the summer of 1997

Interrupt This

2006-03-13T20:42:00.000-05:00

The thought occurred to me last night that I spend a LOT more time talking to people on instant messenger than I do in person. I've used AIM a lot ever since I started college (waaaay back in 1998) but back then, I also talked to people face to face too. After I graduated from OSU, I moved to New Orleans. I didn't know anyone down there, and I didn't have free nights and weekends on my cell (can you imagine?!?) so instant messenger was the way to go.

The thing is, I type fast. I mean, really fast. As fast as I think. And sometimes, I'm chatting with people who don't have a version of AIM that allows me to see when they're typing (or they have that feature turned off, which is just annoying). So I'm often asking questions or making comments at the same time whoever I'm chatting with is typing out the answer or saying the same thing. It makes for funny AIM transcripts, or "great minds think alike" moments, but it also breeds bad habits when I do the same thing in the real world.

I interrupt people all the time! I know my mom taught me better than that. And I hear myself doing it, and I'm so annoyed, but I can't seem to stop. Last night I made the connection between how my brain communicates over AIM and how I communicate in person. Where on the computer I often feel like I'm telling someone they type too slow, in person, it's like I think they TALK too slow, or worse; THINK too slow.

Basically, I can be an asshole and I'd rather blame the computer than myself.

2006-03-03T21:41:00.000-05:00

Ears and Cats

2006-01-03T01:56:00.000-05:00

Well, I finally got my lobes stretched up to a zero gauge. What a huge pain in the ass. I tried using steel spirals to stretch them at first, but they were way too heavy and actually made my lobes bleed. Took those out. Tried wrapping my twos with teflon tape. That didn't work either. I bought an insertion taper and tried slowly forcing it through a little at a time, but once again, made my ears swell and bleed and didn't really get anywhere. I finally bought some acrylic talons, which I kept in for about two weeks, slowly using them to stretch. They looked ridiculous. With Christmas less than a week away, and not wanting to show up at Ryan's parents' with huge horns sticking out of my ears, I bit the bullet and had Ryan shove in the tunnels using the insertion taper. It stung, but not as bad as my sixes had, and by the next day, the swelling had gone away. I guess they were more ready than I'd realized. I love them now, and I'm PRETTY sure this is the size I'm going to stay at. Pretty sure...

I haven't been blogging recently because I've been occupied: Ryan and I adopted two cats two months back. I'll post pictures of them soon, but in the meantime, I've entered them in the Kitten Wars. Sasha has won half her battles, while Digweed is doing better, with eight wins and only five losses. Here I thought Sasha was cuter than Digweed...

Stretching Is Important

2005-09-27T21:01:00.000-04:00

In more ways than one.

First, I'm trying to stretch my lobes from a 2 to a 0. Ryan says it's a big jump, and it's taking me a lot longer than my previous stretches have taken. I think part of the problem is I'm using 0 gauge spirals as tapers, where in the past I've used talons. The way the spirals are designed, I'll never get them all the way through (which is how I could tell before that the holes were ready for tunnels). Also, the 0s are so much bigger than my 2s that I'm afraid the guy accidentally sent me 00s. It's a slow process, and my ears sting after I've pushed the spiral in as far as it can go, then worn them around the house for a couple of hours. I've thought about finding a shop and having them do it, but at the same time, I don't want to damage the lobe and then have to heal it again. That's what happened when I went from an 8 to a 6 - I told the girl at the shop I'd been an 8 much longer than I had, but my ear wasn't really ready and ended up getting a little infected. It was partially because this was when the ice storm hit over winter break, and I didn't have any clean, hot water to wash them with. It was also partially because I wouldn't stop playing with them.

Now, I get so dirty at my job that I want to be able to take my plugs out and wash them every night. I don't want sweat and dust and whatever else settling in around them - gross. But if I stretch to the point they actually need to heal, I won't be able to take them out for a couple of weeks at least. So slow and steady I go.

Also, with the job - I need to be more diligent about stretching. Some days I do a yoga video before I go in, and those days I hurt the least both while I'm working, and when I get up the next day. But I don't like doing yoga (even the really low-impact kind I have on the video) right after I've eaten, and I like to eat pretty close to when I go to work, so I often skip it. The video I have actually has three different twenty minute routines - one for when you wake up, one for "stress relief", and one for before bed. The perfect thing for me would be to come home, shower, then do the PM routine. I know it would protect me from injury and would make me feel a helluva lot less stiff in the morning, but I never do it. Instead, I play on the computer or read, and generally get to sleep around 6am. I will do better! Starting tonight, I will do yoga before I go to bed (if not the video, then at least the move where I lay on my back with my legs running straight up the wall for a couple of minutes). I will!

Changes

2005-09-09T20:13:00.000-04:00

Two important things happened today. First, I got a job with UPS FINALLY and I start Monday, whoo-hoo! Second, my white bead necklace broke. Broke and flung beads all over my bathroom, and many went down the sink. This doesn't sound like a big deal - after all, I think the necklace cost $9 - but I bought it when I was in high school and have worn it not everyday, but about nearly ever since. I just have to wonder how many people I hung out with in high school or even college would remember those beads now. They were a short strand (14" - choker length) and were white mixed in with clear, which I always thought was kind of stunning when I had a tan. They looked good with a t-shirt, but I could pull them off with a skirt or dress also. When I first stretched my lobes, I picked white cat's eye beads for by CBR's during my first stretch just to match the necklace, and my current plugs are clear pyrex (2g) for the same reason. I LOVED those beads and I felt like some of who I was went down the drain with them. I bought them at a mall kiosk in Cincinnati, the Kenwood Towne Centre, to be exact. I seriously doubt it's still there.

What Organized People Do

2005-08-31T02:43:00.000-04:00

I have the potential to really have it together. I mean, I know all sorts of tips and tricks. I even have a subscription to Real Simple! But seriously, it's just like the whole cranberry juice thing: I was having a lot of Urinary Tract Infections, and I heard that drinking cranberry juice would help with that. So I bought a bottle of cranberry juice, but I never really drank it. I KNEW what I should do, but knowing never translated into doing.

So now, I have a couple of things I KNOW I should do but I haven't done, and probably won't do without some kind of motivation.

Make copies of my driver's license, passport, credit cards, etc in case they are stolen
Give a copy of my renter's insurance policy to my apartment's management to keep in my file (in case of a fire)

I thought there was a couple more, but I'm coming up blank right now.

On another note - I'm addicted to OKCupid. I don't even want to try and explain this site, but I've spent many, MANY hours on it since I've moved down here. I'm trying to build up the courage to hang out with someone from the site in person. Not really anyone in particular - I just don't know anyone down here, and why not meet someone online?

There's a number of girls on the site who look so cool on their profile. I just want to send them messages that say "PLEASE be my new best friend!!!" but that seems desperate and kind of scary. So far I haven't messaged any girls because I don't know how to go about doing it without sounding like I'm hitting on them. Ah well. Hopefully Ryan will start making friends in his classes and bring them by the apartment. That's always made me feel guilty though - he meets people and then I befriend them by default. Thanks to on-line classes and working alone, I've never pulled my weight in the meeting people department (at least not since I started grad school).

And a final note - I have completely switched my sleep schedule back to nocturnal, and I'm not even fighting it anymore. I get to bed between 4 and 5am, and I get up between 11am and noon. The funny thing is, if I get this job at UPS, I'll be getting off work at 3:30am, so I won't have to change my sleep schedule at all - whoo-hoo!

This May Be The Coolest Thing Ever

2005-08-15T11:50:00.000-04:00

So I reserved some items with my new Orange County library card, and the reserve page said my pickup location would be "home delivery". I thought they meant my home library branch, but when I called to check, the woman told me that they have a courier service which delivers items to people's homes.

YOU MEAN I DON'T HAVE TO LEAVE MY HOUSE TO GET A BOOK!

COOLEST THING EVER!!!

And it's free!

(I wonder if I should tip the guy...)

To show how much of a fiction junkie I really am, at 10:05pm yesterday I really, really wanted a novel to read, so Ryan drove me out to B&N (I was too doped up on cold medicine to drive) so I could grab a paperback. Even though I figured I'd fall asleep as soon as I laid down, I just couldn't bear the thought of laying there with no book until morning.

SPAM!

2005-08-14T16:22:00.000-04:00

My blog was spammed earlier. More specifically, the comment section was spammed. Maybe it's a sign to give up this venture OR that I need to start paying more attention to the blog. Hard to say.

I'm in the new apartment, and it is awesome. It's also in a completely different complex than the one I was having all the trouble with last post. Long story short - I found a different place once I got down here (thanks to Apartment Hunters), and my parents paid the difference between what Ryan and I had budgeted for the other place, and what this place costs. We ended up getting 770 square feet instead of 660. The place seemed kind of silly at first, we had so little furniture.

Ryan's parents are on their way over right now, so we've cleaned the place up (threw all unpacked boxes into one of three (THREE!) closets). We bought a dinette set but it won't be ready for pickup until the end of the month. It seats six with four chairs and a bench. I'm excited about the bench because I can slide back and forth when I'm doing puzzles. I just picked up six or seven puzzles from a freecycler, but I have no table to do them on. We have a card table up to eat on, but it's not big enough for a serious puzzler like myself.

We also went to a used furniture place and bought a pretty large mirror and a chair. This company is kind of interesting - a lot of their furniture comes from hotels. Basically, when the hurricanes came through last year, some nice hotels were damaged. Instead of just replacing the furniture in the damaged rooms, they went through and replaced every room. Dave, the guy we talked to, said they took full furniture sets (two king beds, dresser, nightstand, desk, chair, and two lamps) from over five hundred rooms. The mirror is hanging over our fireplace (that's right - I live in central Florida and my apartment has a fireplace), and the chair is the perfect size and shape for a reading chair. Whoo-hoo!

The nearly-in-laws are here.

Today Sucked

2005-07-26T18:57:00.000-04:00

I hate blogs that are all bitching, but seriously. It really did!

I woke up with horrible, horrible cramps in my stomach a full hour before my alarm went off. I thrashed around in bed for awhile, and eventually gave up on sleep and began my day.

I started off to work, but the cramps only got worse, so I went back home.

I laid in bed for awhile, then went in the bathroom. From the bathroom, I heard the phone ringing, and the answering machine pick up. I couldn't hear the message over the fans in the bathroom, so I hobbled out to play it back.

It was the girl from the new apartment complex. I've yet to meet her in person, so I don't know what nationality she is, but English is NOT her first language, and it's always a challenge to decipher the messages she leaves. I listened to the message twice, because I thought I heard her say that my apartment wasn't ready.

My house is about 40% packed. If I'd worked today, it would have been my last day. Tomorrow and Thursday were devoted to more packing, my parents are arriving Friday to help, and Saturday we get a U-Haul. Sunday, we drive to Orlando; Monday, we move into the new apartment.

Six days from now. SIX DAYS.

I call the apartment complex back, and a very flustered Sernela deals with me for about thirty seconds before getting a manager. I'm not normally sarcastic to people I don't know, and I'm not the type to yell at strangers, but I definitely got loud with this poor woman, shouting, "IS IT NORMAL FOR YOU TO CALL SOMEONE SIX DAYS BEFORE THEY MOVE AND TELL THEM YOU CAN'T GIVE THEM THE APARTMENT!!!"

I gave them the security deposit in the middle of June. In the meantime, the complex began eviction procedures on the person who was supposed to be leaving my new apartment. Apparently, this takes weeks, and no one realized that I was supposed to move into the apartment until today.

Since I hadn't signed a lease yet, I didn't have any legal standing with the company. The fact that I have to be out of this apartment Sunday, and that I'm moving 250 miles, that I've already rented a truck doesn't matter. I was offered another apartment, smaller than the one I'd reserved, and told that if I wanted to move into the bigger apartment once it's ready, she wouldn't charge me a transfer fee. HOW NICE OF HER.

So I spent all day on the phone and online, talking to people who just didn't understand the situation. For instance, I'd already set up my new phone and DSL service. It would be activated Friday. No one at BellSouth seemed to understand why I needed to change an unactivated service to another address. The post office couldn't understand why I was changing from an Orlando address to another Orlando address while I still lived in Tallahassee. The bank said I have to wait ten days to change my address again, and no, there was no way to keep my statement from being mailed until after the ten days, so it most likely is going to go to the wrong apartment.

I did all this while periodically having to lay down when the pains in my stomach became unbearable. I took some advil and the pain subsided, but I can still feel that there's something wrong and I'm not sure what it is.

Who knows how this is going to work out.

/bitching

Poor Neglected Blog

2005-07-12T21:15:00.000-04:00

I've been slacking on the blog something terrible lately. It's partially because I have a job, and I'm out working most of the day instead of sitting in front of the computer. It's also because I've put myself online, and it's kind of exhausting keeping track of two personas. Not that I've started another blog - but I created a page on MySpace, and the time I used to spend writing to the blog has been spent talking to people I've met there.

I joined MySpace because I wanted to meet people online that I might actually hang out with in person. I mean, I've met people through the blog that I wouldn't mind meeting in real life, but to the best of my knowledge, none of my fellow bloggers live in Florida. None of the people I talk with on memetika do either. Since I'm moving next month, I wanted a site where I put my real name, real location, and try to make some friends I could hang out with in person.

Of course, I'm much more reserved on MySpace. Not that my anonymous persona is so wild, but on the blog and on memetika, I'm openly bisexual and I speak freely of my drug use. Now, I'm not ashamed of either of these things, but that doesn't mean I necessarily want a future employer, or even my family to read about these things. If I ever fall in love with a woman, I'll tell my parents that I like girls. In the meantime, it's only about sex, and telling them would be the equivalent of me saying over dinner one night, "hey mom, dad, I really like to fuck doggy-style."

As for the drug use, I stand by the fact that MDMA has rescued me from the worst of my depression - but that doesn't make it legal, so I'd rather share that information only with people who can benefit from it. I'd love Love LOVE to tell my parents about it, but I just don't think they'd understand. I've considered it a number of times - mostly while I was still using often, still making large purchases - if only because I feared that I'd be arrested, and they'd be convinced I was some kind of junkie. I wanted them to know that the benefits I've had made getting arrested an acceptable risk.

Also, I still depend on my parents for help financially. They basically cover me in two departments - healthcare and car maintenance. They picked up where my insurance fell short during this past year's debacle, and whenever my car stops running, they fork over the cash to get it started again. If they knew that a significant portion of my income went to buying drugs, I think they'd cut me off. Of course, in my book, the drugs would fall under that category of "picking up where health insurance falls short" but I don't think that would fly.

The funny thing is, on MySpace, I want to meet the kind of people who are relaxed about recreational drug use and sexuality, but I don't feel comfortable advertising this. A couple of times, I've met an interesting person on MySpace and I want to tell them about memetika, but I don't want them connecting that persona to my real name (and it wouldn't be hard - my profile pictures are very similar).

I don't know why I'm so bummed out by this. We don't walk around in person with signs advertising our personalities. Well, I guess if you have just the right t-shirt you do...

Why Isn't My Brain A Computer?!?

2005-06-29T22:43:00.000-04:00

Ok, I was going to write a post much more insightful than the usual drivel I've been putting up since I got a job. Wandering around with headphones on seven hours a day gives me plenty of time to think about things, yet I'm usually too tired to type them.

Unfortunately, the subject I wanted to talk about came from a book I read as a child - a whole series of books, actually. They were small, flimsy, illustrated paperbacks about the lives of bugs. Anthropomorphic bugs. And each book began with the same introduction, and THAT is the part that's important right now...

I remember the gist of it, but not the actual wording, and I can't remember the name of the series or the author. My mom is in West Virginia with her cell turned off (or maybe they don't have service in hill country yet...) and no searching on google or amazon has pointed me in the right direction.

It happens more and more often - I'll think of a book (it's almost always a book) or sometimes a movie or song and I won't be able to come up with who it was by or what it was called. Is this what it feels like to grow old? To feel like your brain has reached carrying capacity - that every new memory stored replaces an old one?

I used to have an amazing talent for remembering names. At church camp, each cabin would be assigned at least one meal to serve. When it was my cabin's turn, I always stood at the head of the serving line and greeted every camper and counselor by name - over one hundred of them, and we were only there a week. I don't think there was a person I graduated high school with (285 members) that I didn't know their first and last name. But once I began college, I started losing names. Suddenly I couldn't remember the name of my third grade teacher, or the guy I made out with on vacation the year before. It was like my brain said "ok, all full," and then began selectively deleting names every time I met someone new.

Maybe this is ok. Maybe the human brain isn't designed to records or lists - maybe I should be glad that I can't memorize my Italian vocabulary words but I can solve problems and invent elaborate fantasies and I never get lost. Maybe I'm selling my brain short by wanting it to remember every book I've ever read (or had my mom read to me).

Or maybe it is all there, and I just can't figure out how to get at it...

Score

2005-06-28T23:32:00.000-04:00

I love Love LOVE the score to Batman Begins. The four note, repeated theme builds such tension... I can't believe there was a time I couldn't stand listening to strings. Wow.

Toilets Trouble, Nepalese Style

2005-06-24T23:00:00.000-04:00

I did a brief (three week) study abroad in Nepal during my junior year at OSU. I came back with a new appreciation for indoor plumbing. The thing is, I'm a farm girl, I've gone camping, I'm not opposed to squatting, but the toilets in Nepal tricked me - I'd go to the bathroom INSIDE a house or school, and there would be a white porcelain toilet, just like the ones at home. I'd do my business, but when I'd go to flush, I'd realize that THE TOILET WASN'T HOOKED UP TO ANYTHING! There would be a little bucket and a ladle next to it, so after using the toilet like a westerner, one could scoop out their waste, and dispose of it properly (OUTSIDE).

Of course, many of us either didn't understand the process, or just didn't want to be seen carrying the bucket outside, so sometimes I'd come to one of these toilets and it would be completely full... GOD it was so gross! For MONTHS after I came home I'd have nightmares that I'd go to a huge public bathroom (like at a stadium or movie theater) and as I'd go from stall to stall, each and every one would be filled to the brim, waiting for someone with a bucket to take care of the problem. GROSS!

I would have been infinitely more comfortable squatting in the woods, or using a traditional Nepalese toilet (an outhouse over a hole in the ground).

Thunderstorms

2005-06-19T22:52:00.000-04:00

Seriously guys, what's the difference between "Isolated" T-Storms and "Scattered" T-Storms? Which is more severe? Which is more likely?

The Weather Channel says that there's a 30% chance of precipitation for the next six days, but they interchange "Scattered" and "Isolated". Arbitrary? Possibly.

Part of me prays for rain to give my feet a rest, but the other part of me won't do a rain dance because I need the money.

On another note - I come up with all sorts of interesting observations to muse on while at work, but none of them make it to the blog because I'm too tired (last night I went to bed at 8pm, to wake at 8am - it felt necessary).

What!

2005-06-15T00:11:00.000-04:00

It's already past midnight? How did that happen?

I don't have time for a long post, but let me say this: the phrase, "I'll rape your wife" is NEVER funny. Not a joke guys. Sorry.

I Love My Job

2005-06-07T22:44:00.000-04:00

No, seriously. I really do.

I realized this today. It was about 10am. I had my iPod on with a playlist of upbeat songs. I had on comfortable running shoes and SPF 50 sunblock. I was wandering around an apartment complex, hanging fliers on doors but also admiring peoples gardens, furniture, even their welcome mats. I was working up a sweat but I wasn't fatigued, the sky was a beautiful shade of blue, and I was just HAPPY. Happy to be working. Happy to have a job where no one is directly supervising me. Happy to be able to make my own decisions about where to go, where to park, and to a point, when to quit for the day. When to take a lunch. When to plug through and do an entire neighborhood without stopping. When to stay out even if it's raining. AND when I got my first paycheck, I was making $.50 more an hour than I thought I was. Nice bonus.

Then, after lunch, I'm driving to the next neighborhood and I realize I can't see anything directly in front of me. It's the "aura" of an oncoming migraine. I was actually having such a good time at work, that I was in denial for fifteen minutes of traffic, trying to convince myself that since my head didn't hurt, it wasn't a migraine and it would go away. Pretty soon I realized that my vision was getting worse, and staying on the road was making me a threat to myself and others. I went straight to the restaurant (two hours before I should have clocked out), but they were so busy that I just replaced the fliers, clocked out and left without saying a word. I white-knuckled the steering wheel the entire way home, staying in one lane for all but the last block. Most of the time I could only see with my left eye.

By the time I got to the apartment, I could feel it. I took some meds and slept fitfully for about four hours. It still hurts if I cough, but I was actually able to go to the grocery store. Amazing.

Hopefully I won't show up to work tomorrow just to be fired, because I love my job.

Life Is Hard Without Tools

2005-06-05T12:59:00.000-04:00

Tired of sharing our apartment with insects, Ryan and I went to Lowes yesterday to buy a screen door. We found the cheapest one ($16!), bought the hardware ($5!) and some bug bombs and returned home to start our project.

Although I had measured the width of the frame beforehand, the thought never crossed my mind to measure the height. The screen was about an inch too tall for the frame.

Now, if I lived in Ohio with my family, this would not be a problem. Dad has barns full of tools and I'm sure he could have the job done in under five minutes. Unfortunately, I live in Florida with no barn, and no tools more powerful than an electric drill.

So we went back to Lowes, asked their tool expert to help with our problem, and he recommended a $20 single blade bench plane. In my head, I could see this working. At home, in reality, not so much. I managed to hack a couple of chunks out of the door before Ryan made me stop, and I stormed off in frustration.

Today, we're heading back, hopefully to return the bench plane and get a saw.

Music Is The Weapon Of The Future

2005-06-01T21:04:00.000-04:00

Stolen from Wheelson:

The total volume of music files on my computer:
2313 songs
13.52 GB
7 days, 14 hours, 10 minutes and 55 seconds of continuious play

The last CD I bought was:
Just Be by Tiesto (for my mom)

Song playing right now:
Nightfire by Trus1te (aka Ryan Donnells, a kid from FSU) and this is the first time I've ever listened to it

Five songs I listen to a lot or mean a lot to me, in no particular order:

Do You Know (Infiniti Mix) by Silverblue - Play Count = 29
Staring at the Sun by TV on the Radio - Play Count = 26
Nara by E.S. Posthumus - Play Count = 17
Wonderland (S-Man's Dark Tribe Mix) by Psychedelic Waltons - Play Count = 16
and, since I have a couple of songs with a play count of 15, I'll just say that my favorite song is Enjoy the Silence by Sasha and Digweed, though that may not be the name of it OR it may not actually be Sasha and Digweed. But whatever it is, damn it's good.

Ordering Pizza In 2008

2005-05-23T14:46:00.000-04:00

In honor of the Real ID Act passed earlier this month:

Operator: Thank you for calling Pizza Hut. May I have your national ID number?
Customer: Hi, I'd like to place an order.
Operator: I must have your NIDN first, sir.
Customer: My National ID Number, yeah, hold on, eh, it's 6102049998-45-54610.
Operator: Thank you Mr Sheehan. I see you live at 1742 Meadowland Drive, and the phone number is 494-2366. Your office number over at Lincoln Insurance is 745-2302 and your cell number is 266-2566. Email address is sheehan@home.net. Which number are you calling from sir?
Customer: Huh? I'm at home. Where'd you get all this information?
Operator: We're wired into the HSS, sir.
Customer: The HSS, what is that?
Operator: We're wired into the Homeland Security System, sir. This will add only 15 seconds to your ordering time.
Customer: (sighs) Oh well, I'd like to order a couple of your All-Meat Special pizzas.
Operator: I don't think that's a good idea, sir.
Customer: Whaddya mean?
Operator: Sir, your medical records and commode sensors indicate that you've got very high blood pressure and extremely high cholesterol. Your National Health Care provider won't allow such an unhealthy choice.
Customer: What?!?! What do you recommend, then?
Operator: You might try our low-fat Soybean Pizza. I'm sure you'll like it.
Customer: What makes you think I'd like something like that?
Operator: Well, you checked out 'Gourmet Soybean Recipes' from your local library last week, sir. That's why I made the suggestion.
Customer: All right, all right. Give me two family-sized ones, then.
Operator: That should be plenty for you, your wife and your four kids. Your 2 dogs can finish the crusts, sir. Your total is $49.99.
Customer: Lemme give you my credit card number.
Operator: I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid you'll have to pay in cash. Your credit card balance is over its limit.
Customer: I'll run over to the ATM and get some cash before your driver gets here.
Operator: That won't work either, sir. Your checking account is overdrawn also.
Customer: Never mind! Just send the pizzas. I'll have the cash ready. How long
will it take?
Operator: We're running a little behind, sir. It'll be about 45 minutes, sir. If you're in a hurry you might want to pick'em up while you're out getting the cash, but then, carrying pizzas on a motorcycle can be a little awkward.
Customer: Wait! How do you know I ride a scooter?
Operator: It says here you're in arrears on your car payments, so your car got repo'ed. But your Harley's paid for and you just filled the tank yesterday.
Customer: Well, I'll be a #%#^^&$%^$@#
Operator: I'd advise watching your language, sir. You've already got a July 4, 2003 conviction for cussing out a cop and another one I see here in September for contempt at your hearing for cussing at a judge. Oh yes, I see here that you just got out from a 90 day stay in the State Correctional Facility. Is this your first pizza since your return to society?
Customer: (speechless)
Operator: Will there be anything else, sir?
Customer: Yes, I have a coupon for a free 2 liter of Coke..
Operator: I'm sorry sir, but our ad's exclusionary clause prevents us from offering free soda to diabetics. The New Constitution prohibits this. Thank you for calling Pizza Hut.
- Oliver Del Signore is a freelance writer and the webmaster for Backwoods Home Magazine. He welcomes comments via email to webmaster@backwoodshome.com.

More info on the Real ID Act

Marquee?

2005-05-22T04:50:00.000-04:00

So are the pictures enjoyable or annoying? Do they make the page load too slow? I understand that this page can't really be viewed at all in IE, but I really don't want to try and figure out that problem. I'm wondering how long before the pictures get old, and if it's going to be a pain in the ass to put up new ones.

Actually, I'm not worried about it - I do this for fun, not because of any obligation.

Size Matters

2005-05-20T12:09:00.000-04:00

I'm going to be a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding. This is a first for me. It's in September, which is a good time frame for me to trim down a bit, though I was informed that right now, I am the smallest of six bridesmaids. Kim is going to be 8 months pregnant, Dawn will have had her second child two weeks before, and Jake's three female representatives are said to be taller and wider than yours truly.

For the record, I am not a small girl. I'd say right now I'm 5'6", 150 (and no, I'm not going to try to convert that for the metric crowd).

Speaking of size, I have now stretched my left earlobe to a 2 gauge. That means I can fit a pencil through the hole. The other ear is still a 4 gauge, so I'm a little lopsided. I guess I play with my left ear while I use the mouse with my right hand. Yeah, that explains it.

I Heart Everything

2005-05-12T13:58:00.000-04:00

I've been very content since Monday. The huge shadow of what I should be doing seems to have left, and my usual depression seems hard to imagine. I haven't tipped the scales to manic either. Life has become simple (even though it's not) and I'm enjoying nearly every moment of my day. I get up at ten, have a glass of cranberry juice and either read a book or Alternet's headlines. I make myself lunch, and if Ryan has class I make him something too. Most days this week he's taken the car and I've ran errands on foot, but yesterday I took him to work so I could get more done. I've accomplished small things every day (applying for a job, emailing someone at another college, looking for apartments, cleaning this apartment), but also spent plenty of time just relaxing, reading people's blogs and books. I cook dinner every night, and Ryan helps clean up. I leave him alone while he does whatever it is he does on the computer, though he doesn't mind if I interrupt with something I've read. We take a walk once the sun starts to set - one night for ice cream, another to the library and a sex shop (nice combination, I know). We've had above-average sex at least once a day, sometimes more. Yesterday he even let me pick out a book for him (the second time this has happened) and we both sat in the living room and read for about an hour. The night before, he'd picked up MY book, and read aloud to me for twice that. The apartment goes from warm to sweltering during the day, then back to warm at night, and I have a constant layer of sweat on me, which I find enjoyable and makes showering an event instead of a cultural chore. I've actually fallen asleep around 2am every night instead of the usual insomnia, even with the noise outside. Life is good. I feel like I could continue this indefinitely, even with a job, classes, bills, moving, and whatever else life throws my way. I'm not sure I've ever felt this way before.

Another Insurance Rant

2005-05-10T17:10:00.000-04:00

I'm not going to go into the details because they're too boring, but here's the newest chapter in the "I HATE MY INSURANCE COMPANY AND POSSIBLY THE ENTIRE MEDICAL BUREAUCRACY" saga.

Back in December, I was staying with Ryan's parents in Lakeland. This is 300 miles away from home. I hurt my shoulder, and although I wanted to tough it out until I got home, his mom insisted that I go to the emergency room at 8pm New Year's Eve.

I had been having oodles of trouble with my insurance company, and didn't want to go, but she took my card, called the 800 number, and spoke with a representative who told us to go to Lakeland Regional because it was in my preferred provider network.

So we went, we waited, we did the triage thing and then they sent me to the building next door.

Same hospital complex, not across the road or anything, but my specific problem wasn't severe enough to warrant full ER treatment and the wait at the other place was supposed to be shorter.

Guess what? Yup. The other place was billed by someone totally different than Lakeland Regional and I just got a bill for $225. $225 for someone to pull on my arm, tell me it's not dislocated, put me in a sling and prescribe me some darvocet (which didn't help at all) and recommend aleve.

WOW.

When I spoke with my insurance rep to find out why there were five different numbers on the sheet they'd sent, and what they all meant, she explained that just because a doctor works in a covered hospital doesn't mean the doctor is covered. Or just because a clinic is in the same building as the hospital, doesn't mean they're both covered. This is the third time I've had trouble with this kind of thing, and I was pretty upset. I asked her how a "normal" (as in, I don't work for an insurance agency) person is supposed to know this, and she didn't have an answer. I then asked if I'm supposed to stop every doctor that comes through the door and ask if he or she is covered before I let them touch me. She said yes, and that's what she does.

If only Canada were closer to the Equator...

I'm Going Back To Ohio

2005-04-26T10:31:00.000-04:00

So long for awhile. I'm spending nine days back in Ohio, then heading down to Central Florida to stay with Ryan's parents. It's like Christmas except it's April and I doubt we'll be getting presents.

Though I did hear it SNOWED in Columbus over the weekend.

Happy Lifeday Kelly

2005-04-19T04:23:00.000-04:00

So everyone has a birthday, but I have a lifeday. This Wednesday will be three years to the day from when I tried to kill myself but CHANGED MY MIND. I decided I wanted to be here after all, even if life hurts. And it still does, but I'm not ready to give it up quite yet.

I didn't do a very good job of living the first year after I decided I wanted to, but it's been getting better. This past year since my last lifeday has been pretty exciting. Last April was the party that wouldn't end (it started at 8pm on a Friday and I kicked the last guest out of my house at 10am Monday), which started the summer of parties that wouldn't end. Who knew I had such stamina! Who knows how I managed not to get fired...

What else happened in that time... Ryan moved in with me, then we moved into our own apartment. It's a good thing we get along as well as we do, because damn this apartment is tiny. We're tripping over each other all the time, which I must admit is pretty fun.

The most momentous thing that has happened is that I've finally admitted to myself that I don't want to be a librarian. I tried to ignore this fact because I didn't have a better plan, and dropping out of school to _________ was too scary of an idea. Now, I've made up my mind. I want to be a therapist. I don't want to get a PhD, so I'm probably going to get a Master's in Social Work here at FSU, provided I get into their program. I have until July 1 to apply.

I haven't told my parents yet. I'm waiting until I fly back at the end of the month. I want to tell them face to face so they can see how excited I am and how happy this is making me instead of thinking about the two year I spent taking LIS courses that won't be worth anything now. True, the class credit won't transfer, but I've learned so much about myself since I've moved down here, the experience alone was worth the price of tuition.

If anyone who happens to read this has had any experience with a therapist (good or bad), I would love to hear your stories. Even if it's just a "my therapist did this and it was great!" or "my therapist did this and that's why I stopped going." I have biases based on my own experiences with therapy, but I'd love to hear what others have to say, especially before I start classes and (possibly) get brainwashed. If your experience is too personal to post as a comment, by all means email me at arrogant.fool@gmail.com.

I think I'm going to end up spending my lifeday working on an assignment for a class that I'm not even going to need. But I'm in the home stretch now: this time next week my semester ends, whether I have the work done or not.

Good Mood Take Two

2005-04-18T01:46:00.000-04:00

Today with the chemical cocktails, a good time was had. No Sarah or Stephanie, but Rico came buy unexpectedly and shook things up a bit. There was no life-affirming realization like I get with mushrooms, but there was a lot of laughing. I heard somewhere laughing is good for the immune system, so I'm going to assume whatever damage the chemicals did to my body, the laughing more than compensated for. It's exactly twelve hours since the chemicals were ingested and I feel fine and sober. Ryan and I went to Olive Garden and neither of us had any trouble eating, and he's already asleep so I'm going to assume I won't have trouble there (at least no more that usual).
I saw my grade for my last LIS assignment - 88%, a B+. I did the math and so long as I get a C on this final (76% I think), I'll get an A in the class. Not that it matters if I'm not going to be a librarian anymore (more on this later) but if I'm going to be applying to other schools, keeping my 4.0 will look good.

Hello, Hello, I Am In A Great Mood

2005-04-17T00:28:00.000-04:00

Tonight, I got to eat at MORI JAPANESE STEAKHOUSE! Yum! We went there about five weeks ago with Ryan's dorm kids for Erin's birthday. Every single thing I had - soup, salad, shrimp, chicken, veggies, rice - was absolutely delicious. I craved the shrimp and chicken for weeks after, but a hibachi grill isn't someplace you generally swing by for lunch, and the only thing I can get the Kids together for is substance abuse, so a dinner outing was out of the question. Well, Erin called tonight to invite us, and my first question was, "who's birthday is it?" I guess these crazy kids go even when it's NOT someone's birthday, so we went to and I enjoyed copious amounts of seafood sauce.
I actually began my final assignment for LIS. I started it Friday night, and worked on some today. I'm still far from finished, but the fact that I've been working means the worst (starting) is over. It's not due 'til Thursday morning, but I'm hoping to have it done before I go to class Wednesday so Ryan can take me out.
Ryan and I cleaned the apartment. Well, the living room, kitchen and bathroom. Our bedroom is a war zone, but that's mostly my fault, my stuff, and I'm always kind of ok with my own messes (not with Ryan's). Plus, the bedroom isn't dirty, it's just cluttered. But yeah, we never clean really, not all at once like today, but we're having a little shindig tomorrow and our apartment is way too small to not be spotless.
Yes, the party tomorrow. This is something new. We've invited five people over to drink chemical cocktails and trip all afternoon. Doing drugs on a Sunday afternoon is new to me (unless I'm still up from Friday or Saturday) and having people over to this tiny apartment is new also. A girl Ryan works with that I've never met is coming, along with Christin, her friend Katie, Sarah, and Ryan's dorm friend John. Quite a crew. And the chemicals are kind of new. I've tried one of them, Ryan's tried both. They're semi-legal (unscheduled) substances that mimic mushrooms in a way. I don't expect to have the kind of intense spiritual awakening I've had shrooming, especially not with six other people to pay attention to, but this should be interesting nevertheless.
My earlobes are now a 4 gauge. I ordered a pair of 4 gauge eyelets and a pair of round steel tapers, thinking I would slowly work the tapers in until I could put in the eyelets. Well, the eyelets haven't arrived yet, but the tapers came today and they went all the way through. Maybe I should have shot for a 2? Also, if I put them in from the back, the tapers look like regular silver hoops, so they'll be good for job interviews and the like.

I'm Not An Addict

2005-04-15T21:34:00.000-04:00

Lately I haven't felt satisfied after a meal unless it ended with chocolate. Chocolate milk usually does the trick (though if you saw what I call "chocolate milk" you'd be disgusted), but I'm out of Nestle Quick and anyways I want something I can sink my teeth into.

Ryan and I went out for dinner and on the way home I stopped at a convenience store and bought

A king-sized Kit Kat
A 100 Grand
A Charleston Chew
A box of Milk Duds
A bag of Raisinets
A king-sized Heath bar

I'd already eaten a bag of plain M&M's after lunch, and I see a Crunch bar wrapper in the trash can... not sure where that came from but it's recent.

Desires

2005-04-15T01:07:00.000-04:00

I just want to have clear skin and happy parents and strawberries and no set schedule and love and books and chocolate and good posture and a nontoxic attitude and clean water and a huge tattoo on my back that goes down past my butt and a place that feels like home and sex without pain and music and a way to meet and talk to like-minded people and skyline chili and mushrooms and conversations with people who think differently that don't turn into fights.

And a cat.

And a hug.

Loaded Question

2005-04-14T02:57:00.000-04:00

Oh Blogger, why were you so angry earlier? You wouldn't let me post and you wouldn't let me leave comments. Boo.

I've realized something recently that's shed light on why some well-meaning words have made my conversations go horribly, horribly wrong: "Why" is a loaded question.

I like to know why people do things. I understand that I don't know why I do a lot of the things I do, but I would LOVE it if someone actually took the time to ask me. So I apply this to the people around me, and when they do something I'll ask them why.

And most of the time, they get horribly angry and violently defensive.

I finally figured it out: "Why?" passes judgment. "Why?" says "I don't understand" or worse "I don't agree with you" or my favorite "you're a dumbass".

But I'll ask someone why they do something that I do, or why they think something that I agree with 100%. Mostly it's because I want to see if we do things for the same reasons, or if we're getting the same result coming from totally different places.

The other thing about me that I'm finding is NOT the norm is that I like to talk to people who disagree with me. I don't like to fight, and I don't like to talk to them so I can convince them I'm right - I just like to hear a different point of view. I like to think that I can learn from people who are different - probably much more than from people who I'm similar to. But our society is so damn polite that we're not supposed to disagree with anyone, especially strangers.

Unless we're at a football game. Or a protest. But then we're supposed to choose a team, line up on our side and yell at the other side. In short catchy phrases repeated over and over.

I'm sure I'll learn a lot from that kind of exchange.

My revelation came earlier this week when Ryan was telling me about his job. He's a self-proclaimed printer-monkey at a place that makes graduation announcements. I'd noticed since he started there last month that he seemed to take it very personally if an order didn't get completed on time. He was always talking about getting behind because the printers could only go so fast, and sometimes they'd break down or he'd run out of a certain kind of paper or something, and he'd be upset about it. So I asked him why he cared.

As the question slipped out, and as his expression hardened, I realized the weight of that word, "why". My "why" passed judgment. My "why" said "because you shouldn't (moron)". Even though what I really wanted to know was if he feared that he would get fired if the orders were late (seemed unlikely), if he took a special pride in his work (somewhat unlikely), if he was just very loyal to his company (still unlikely), if he got some kind of bonus if things weren't late (I would have heard about this), or if he was just conditioned to wanting things done on time, and hadn't really thought about it more than that.

Of course, my "why" wasn't meant to be multiple-choice. I didn't want to rattle off possible answers to the question, just to have him nod to one and return to his story. And I also knew there was a good chance that his answer was beyond any of the reasons I came up with.

I managed to get him to understand I wasn't passing judgment, I was just curious because I'd never seen this kind of work ethic in him. He relaxed and told me that if he was able to, he just liked getting people's orders done for them. He also liked working the phones because most of the time, he could help the people with the problems they called in for. He said something along the lines of "when I can, I really do like helping people." I love Ryan, but he's been an angry ball of testosterone the past couple months (maybe because we haven't done as many drugs?) and this "I want to help strangers" attitude really surprised me. In a good way.

See, I learned something important by asking "why".

No, I Didn't

2005-04-10T03:42:00.000-04:00

Finish the paper. And it's 3:42am Sunday morning. And now I might not pass the class.

I've emailed my professor asking if she'll take it late. If she won't, I can't pass the class, so I might as well quit worrying about it.

Failing the class wouldn't even be the end of the world right now because I've had a revelation over the last couple of weeks, and I don't think I want to be a librarian after all. I'll post sometime soon about what I think I DO want to do with my life career-wise, but my reasons aren't the traditional ones and I don't want anyone to react to my choice before I can explain myself.

And if you're wondering WHY the paper didn't get finished on time, well, I worked on it some Thursday, I think. I can't remember, actually. I couldn't sleep again Wednesday night, then woke up thinking I had to take Ryan to work but didn't (he drove himself), went to my class that afternoon, came home and ____________________.

I have no idea what I did. Maybe I worked on the paper some. All I know is that at 11:30 that night, Sarah called and asked me if I could take her to Jacksonville the next day.

As the acting big sister of my group of friends (since I'm at least three years older than the next oldest) I get called on with all sorts of questions and in all manner of crises. Sarah called a couple of weeks ago with a question about RU486, and it took about .5 seconds for me to figure out she wasn't asking for a friend. I gave her all the information I had based on taking ANOTHER of the girls last year, and told her I'd go with her if she needed me to.

She didn't bring it up again, so I figured everything was squared away.

Well, I guess she HAD lined someone else up to go, but suddenly that girl couldn't get off work so at 11:30 the night before she called me.

Choice: tell her no and turn the paper in on-time, or suffer the consequences of a late paper.

I didn't even hesitate. I told her the paper could wait, and to call me when she left in the morning so I'd be ready when she arrived.

I guess there was a third choice: I could have stayed up all night, finished (or at least did part) of the paper, slept in the car on the drive there, slept in the clinic, filled up on caffeine and drove home (to finish the paper if I hadn't the night before).

Instead, I worked on it for another hour or so, then went to bed. I slept awful - nightmares again - and the morning was a mess - I didn't realize that I still needed to drive Ryan to class, then Sarah arrived but we had to wait until after I brought Ryan back home. Once at the clinic the ultrasound said that Sarah was nine and a half weeks pregnant, not seven like she thought. The catch is, Sarah had been in a lesbian relationship. She and her girlfriend invited a guy to bed with them on a trip exactly seven weeks ago Friday, so it's not like there was any question in her mind about when this happened. But the doctor had to go by the ultrasound, and it was too late for her to get the pill.

I was so scared for her. I've heard all sorts of horror stories about surgical abortions. But when she was finished, she said she didn't remember any of it. They gave her an IV sedation, and she remembered lying down, and getting dressed afterwards. She was pretty woozy and not at all ready for a three hour drive home, so instead we drove 30 minutes to her friend's house. We hung out there for a couple of hours. Now I was kind of irritated, but a part of me knew even if we'd gone straight home I wouldn't have finished the paper on time, and I just wanted Sarah to feel better. She and Joe smoked a bowl while I munched on pringles, and he gave her some sweet gayboy vibes. She perked up and calmed down at the same time, if that's possible, then we headed home. I pulled in about 10pm, exhausted, and went straight to bed without setting an alarm. At least it was cool enough to keep the windows shut, so I didn't have the bar noise keeping me up all night.

I woke up Saturday and went straight to the computer. Still in a sleepy haze, I checked my email before I started working on the paper. I was having trouble reading the screen, but I figured I had goo in my eyes. I washed my face, but it didn't seem to help.

I thought maybe I needed to eat something, so I went in the kitchen.

The bright, white kitchen with the sun streaming in.

And I realized the spots in my vision were the beginnings of a migraine.

I think the highest number of migraines I've had in a year has been three. And I went a couple of years with only one. I already had one this semester, and the unfairness of getting one when I really, REALLY had something I needed to do put me in denial for a little bit.

The thing is, I knew if it was a false alarm but I took the medicine anyways, I'd be worthless for writing the paper.

But if it WASN'T a false alarm, and I didn't take the medicine, I'd be worthless AND in pain.

So I took the medicine, went back to bed (with my head propped up) and suffered a small amount of pain but some crazy half-dreams-half-hallucinations.

I was able to get up around 4pm.

By 6pm I could flush the toilet or hear a car door slam without hurting.

By 8pm I could read the computer screen fine, except for screens that were mostly whitespace.

Like a paper.

Dammit.

And now? Why have I written this epic instead of the paper? I'm not entirely sure. I tried to go to sleep about two hours ago, but was so restless (thank you migraine meds) that it was useless. I got up to write my professor, asking if I should even continue working on it now that it'll be over 48 hours late, and I just didn't go back to bed.

I'm not sharp enough to write it. I'm not focused enough. My writing so far has jumped from subject to subject, point to point. I've basically been writing unrelated paragraphs, and my voice (and therefore punctuation) is nearly as casual as this post.

Part of me wants her to tell me not to bother, to chalk this semester (and this program, though she doesn't know that) up as a loss and move on. Oh! Move on! That will give me time to find a job before all the seniors graduate and the undergrads finish finals. It will give me a chance to really research this new direction I want to go, and make sure it's feasible (I don't want to have to get a PhD, or another undergraduate degree). It will make me feel kind of bad about myself, but oh so relieved on the other hand.

But quitting on my own won't, so I'm going to bed and hopefully will wake to an email.

Goodnight.

Stay Of Execution

2005-04-07T01:18:00.000-04:00

I missed class Monday.

I missed class Monday because I was at the hospital with Ryan. He was having surgery to repair his hernia.

I didn't want to miss class, because an assignment worth 25% of my grade was due Wednesday (today) (yesterday actually) and that class would be the last chance I had to talk to the professor about a part of the project that was troubling me.

I knew I would miss class because class is at 3:35 and Ryan needed to be at the hospital at 2:30. If they'd stuck a bandaid on him and put him back in the car I wouldn't have made it back in time for class. As it was, he didn't go back for surgery until after 6pm. I could have dropped him off, gone to class, and returned while he was in the same room.

I didn't know this.

I also made a big deal about him coming with me for my colpo last month, even though he'd have to miss work. I wasn't about to abandon him (even for such an important class) after making such a stink about him abandoning me.

I was at that damn hospital for 12 hours.

Not only did I miss class, but I didn't get to work on my assignment in the evening, like I planned.

I didn't even get to bring him home. I got home around 2am, and he called around 8am asking me to pick him up, and also fill his prescription. I guess I was a real asshole on the phone. I'm not a morning person.

It still took over an hour to get him out of the hospital.

Then the pharmacy told me he wasn't insured. I spent another half an hour at the pharmacy before just paying for the damn prescription.

When we finally got home, I went back to bed. Slept through my Tuesday class.

Then things got really weird. I went to the grocery because Ryan wanted cream of wheat, and I got us dinner. This took about two hours. After dinner, I felt like someone had drugged me and I fell asleep fully clothed, with the lights on. I woke up around 10 or 11, was starving, and sat in the kitchen eating dill pickles and reading Tom Robbins. Then I couldn't fall back to sleep until after 4am.

In the morning, I had to get up before 9am to take Ryan to class. I didn't bother to go back to sleep because I knew I had to pick him up at 10. Then he wasn't sure if he was going to go to work or not, so I stayed up until he finally called his boss and said he was staying home. So I went back to sleep. I woke up, took a shower, and went to class. The class where the paper was due. I wasn't sure if it was already due, or if it was due at midnight, but either way I didn't have it.

Then, my professor tells me it's due FRIDAY!!!

So did I come home and start working on it? OF COURSE NOT! I made dinner, read some, felt drugged AGAIN, fell asleep AGAIN, woke up around 9pm, ate some more, read some more, watched a movie with Ryan and here I am on the blog instead of working on the paper.

I think the time change has something to do with the random falling asleep.

Oh, and during the 3 and 4 hours of sleep I have been getting, I've had some crazy nightmares. In one I was attacked by a praying mantis. Or was it a walking stick... some kind of big skinny should-be-harmless insect. I can't remember the others, but I haven't woken feeling rested in awhile.

But at least the paper isn't due yet.

Ultra 7 Memories

2005-04-02T11:58:00.000-05:00

Wanting to leave at noon Friday. Agreeing to leave at 4pm Friday. Actually getting on the road around 8pm Friday.
Discovering the rental car had expired tags
The cavalier changing drivers three times while I never stopped
Ryan being impressed with my driving
Having a cooler full of fruit everyone shared when we stopped
Getting the iPod to work through the rental car's speakers
Discovering the iPod's battery life is only 4 hours
Sitting on the hood of the rental in front of the Intercontinental while the rest of the Kids carried the stuff in
13 of us sleeping in one hotel room
Actually getting sleep
Hearing the bass from the soundchecks at 10am
Putting on that thick 50SPF sunscreen
Roaming around downtown Miami with Ryan looking for lunch
Noticing we're the only white people in the mall
Running into our group at Quizno's
Old white guy asking if Ultra was a car show
Everyone agreeing to use the lobby bathroom for anything "serious"
Ryan deciding to trip while we waited for the other Kids to arrive
Ryan tripping so hard I had to help him put his pants on
Donning my tank top with glowsticks glued on it
All the girls figuring out how to smuggle drugs into the event
Joe not having his ID for will call
Joe being able to get his ticket anyway
Scarfing down a mushroom at the last minute
All of us FINALLY going to the event
Sarah calling from the freeway, asking for directions
Freaking out in line, convinced my stash would be discovered and I would go to jail
Not being able to get out of line
PANICKING
No one understanding I was panicking
Being patted down by security
Being waved through
OH MY GOD I DIDN'T GET ARRESTED AND I'M AT ULTRA!!!
Trying to talk on a cell phone with all that noise
Will spinning me around and crushing candy into my chest
Finding Jeppetto
Seeing Tom and Ryan dance to the end of Armin Van Buuren's set
Seeing Courtney
Looking for the "guy in a straw hat"
Realizing the "guy in a straw hat" is Juan
Tiffany mugging Ryan and knocking his flashing button off
Actually FINDING the button in that crowd and reattaching it
Ferry Corsten (or Liquid Todd?) laying down "Fight For Your Right"
Finding all the Kids for Paul Oakenfold's set
Not liking ANYTHING Oakenfold spun, but getting carried away by the energy of the audience
All of us leaving together for Carl Cox
Matt promising me a bathroom
Ryan and I splitting because I was going to piss myself
Waiting 20 minutes for a port-a-john
"He's doing drugs in there"
Seeing Courtney, Jeppetto and Juan in line
Thinking to myself "lock the door spit out your gum untie your pants get out the drugs pee swallow two wash them down put two more in your mouth put the rest in your pocket pull up your pants retie them outside get to Ryan wait wait wait kiss him"
All that actually working
First time ever not being terrified by/sick from a port-a-john
Losing Jeppetto and crew
CARL COX
Missy calling me 8 times during Carl Cox
Finally leaving the tent to call her back, convinced her group got arrested or something awful
Missy just looking for her brother ("It's just me and Ryan, we don't know where anyone is")
Leaving Ryan under the cameras dancing while I stood in line for water
Talking to Tim and Chon from Chicago who drove all the way to see Rabbit in the Moon
Big black girl in a short skirt asking me for drugs
Girl at the register tells me they're out of water (though I see two truckloads of bottles behind her)
Walking by all the meat tents, ew
Buying Ryan glowsticks
Ryan and I push to the middle of the Amphitheater for
TIESTO
Tiesto - my most anticipated set, being all foreplay and no fucking. He would lift us up up UP but never take us anywhere. No release. Still spun some great songs though.
The little blonde chick behind me screaming "Love Comes Again" looking absolutely blissed out
Sharing water with strangers
European guys who didn't seem to speak any English
Strangers sharing water with me
Getting overheated, fearing I was going to be another "raver casualty"
Getting over it
Ryan giving two blissed out kids a light show
The glowsticks falling off my shirt
Sarah's crew finally making it inside
Taking a break with them
Guy in Gumby suit
Tiny skinny girls with HUGE BOOBS
Some obvious Narc harassing us about where to get acid (I tell him, "that's wishful thinking")
Dancing on a bench while Ryan goes looking for Tiffany
Sarah spanking short Latino boy with nice butt
Standing by the fountain, under the big orange balloon, trying to explain to EVERYONE where we are and NO ONE finding us
Running into Neil who happened to meet a girl from Tally
Finding the Kids after the show ended
Telling them we're going to see Sasha & Digweed with Sarah's crew
Kelli seeming upset
Getting spanked by a British gal with a palm frond
Sarah puking as we leave
Scalping one ticket
Waiting in line for Carry On tickets
Neil and his new friend (Melanie?) skipping out on the Carry On
Actually getting another ticket from the box office
Walking through what seemed like an abandoned part of Miami to get to Sarah's hotel
Taking a shower
Talking Jenny into coming
Sarah puking as we walked to the Carry On
Creepy guys at bus stop
Chevy not being allowed to bring his bag inside, but allowed to take everything out of it, put it in his pockets, and put the bag in his pocket
Security guard saying to Ryan "Boy, you ain't even wearing underwear" when he had on boxer shorts (and who says that?)
Trying to convince the ticket guy to abandon his post
Sarah sick again
Walking halfway around the arena to find water
Sitting with Sarah in the balcony, talking about downer things
Being cold in the arena
Hanging out on the terrace
Guy on the terrace breaking his neck to look at Jenny's boobs
Staying for the end of the show with Ryan
Nice walk back to the hotel
Trying to get my crew to leave at 5am
Kelli insisting "Matt needs sleep"
Talking with Will about social issues
Watching Dave and Kate trip
Sitting on the wall by the bay, in the sun, wearing Dave's hat
Seeing a huge inflatable guitar and thinking I was hallucinating
Realizing everyone else saw it too
Getting the show on the road around noon
Driving the entire way home, averaging about 85 mph (and barely keeping up with traffic)
Talking with Ryan about money issues
Matt and Anneka going on and on about why drugs should be illegal
Calling Matt a hypocrite, then apologizing
Trying to explain what I don't like about the electronic music genre, and being attacked by everyone in the car
Losing my voice
Seeing shadow people in the road when I returned the rental car
Staying up until 5am instead of crashing immediately
Rolling change and putting it in a jar to start next year's Ultra fund

Some Things You Just Can't Blog (Effectively)

2005-04-02T11:33:00.000-05:00

I'm back, after a brief, unplanned hiatus. Well, some of it was planned, I just didn't make a big deal of announcing it on Blogger. I wonder if I'm getting tired of blogging already. I wonder if this is quicker than I usually get bored of things, or if I've actually stuck with this awhile.

But for now, I don't feel like blogging is a duty - it's still something I want to do. It's just hard sometimes to figure out my audience. Like last weekend - I went to Ultra. I'd been bitching for awhile to anyone I came into contact with about how clusterfuct this trip was, and I have to admit that everyone I talked to who WASN'T going told me it sounded horrible and that I shouldn't go. Of course, everyone who WAS going (and especially those wise folks who'd gone LAST year) told me to just relax, everything would work out and it would be so worth it.

Well, I'm not sure everything worked out, but it was so worth it.

It took me awhile to process what all happened (and to recover from 37 hours without sleep), and then I didn't want to blog Ultra because I'd already told a lot of people about it, and you can't really EXPLAIN Ultra to someone who didn't go, and if I was only writing this for myself, then how exactly did I want to write it? I mean, I'm not going to forget most of it any time soon. Do I recall the BIG happenings (Seeing Tiesto, Digweed), or the people I saw from Central Florida (like Jeppetto, Tiffany, Courtney and Juan), or the weird things (getting spanked by that British gal, the security guy asking Ryan why he wasn't wearing any underwear), or the BAD things (Joe's trucking blowing a tire, Dave's car blowing a tire, that guy who wouldn't give me any water), or the amazing things (being with Ryan when Tiesto spun "our song", dancing my SOBER ass off during Carl Cox's incredible set). . . it's hard to make a decision.

I think I'll resort to a list.

Then, since I've been back, my cousin Rob flew in for business (on a mission from Scott's to eradicate fire ants in the south) and we went out to dinner. Some magic mushrooms are drying in my fridge, waiting for four of us to have a sunny day free (this is about as likely as all the planets aligning). My neighbor Rico was kicked out of his apartment, might be staying at the homeless shelter and I'm just waiting for him to ask if he can stay here (to which I'm going to say no, and I'm going to feel bad about it). Ryan is having surgery on Monday, I have an assignment due worth 25% of my LIS grade and I finally got to have sex last night after being out of commission for at least two weeks, and I was more nervous that the first time. With anyone. Ever.

I have a Lord of the Rings day calendar sitting by my mouse. I only get one picture for Saturday/Sunday. This weekend it is a really nasty-looking Orc (but aren't they all nasty-looking?). I'm half tempted to go ahead and flip it to Monday, and be confused all weekend, just to have a better picture. Ah well.

Kelly, From The Ground Up

2005-03-23T11:59:00.000-05:00

I have long, narrow feet with very high arches. I used to keep my toenails either candy-apple red or an equally bold fuchsia, but about a year ago I decided nail polish was probably toxic and stopped using it all together.
I've always had muscular calves, but when I played sports I could sit cross-legged and hold a soda can on the platform the muscle made. Can't anymore.
I have some stretch marks on my inner thighs which go away if I get some sun. I think I have cellulite too, but I'm not really worried about it - it's in the back, so I don't often see it.
I have freakishly long legs. I also have the hamstrings of someone half my size. This makes me horribly inflexible. All my yoga and pilates instructors can't figure out how to help. In class, I'll look like I'm just taking a break while everyone else is doing some kind of toe touch, but in reality I'm working harder than anyone - I just can't reach far enough.
I don't shave my legs very often. I used to get them waxed, then I started doing it myself. Now I have one of those machines that plucks the hairs out. I had some electrolysis done a couple of years ago, but it was so incredibly painful and the results weren't dramatic enough to continue. I'd like to have laser hair removal done eventually, but right now I don't want to make that investment.
My butt isn't huge, but it's decent size. I wouldn't want it to be any smaller though. My hips are wide enough I could be called "curvy".
My stomach is a little flabby, and the right side sticks out further than the left. It's been that way for at least five years. Even when I was 25 pounds lighter than I am now, it was still a little lopsided. I actually have very strong abs, but they are hidden under that layer of flab.
I had a slight curve in my back when I was in middle school. Not enough to need a brace or anything, but enough that I never feel aligned in yoga. I think this is why I don't sleep well.
I love my boobs. They are smallish, probably not quite a B but I haven't worn a bra in so long it's hard to say. I think I have small nipples, but Ryan says they're huge. I always thought they were the size of a pencil eraser, but now that I've compared, he's right - they're much bigger than that. Not quite a tootsie roll though. Also, if they get any sun, my nipples blend right in with the rest of my chest.
I carry all my tension in my shoulders and neck. I have on knot on the right side that's been there at least since middle school - that was the first time a masseuse ever touched me, and to the best of my knowledge, no massaging, yoga, or gels have ever gotten rid of it (and if they did, it came right back).
I have an incredibly weak upper body. I can't do a push up. I've never been able to do a chin up. (I ordered a doorway pull up bar, so once that's installed I hope to give it a try every time I walk from here to the kitchen, so maybe this will improve).
I've broken my left arm three different times, in four different places.
My fingers are very long and narrow. I keep my fingernails short and don't paint them.
I think I have bad skin. I used to have VERY bad skin, and I'm sure that my face looks great compared to what it looked like five years ago, but I feel that at 25 I shouldn't be dealing with the number of blemishes I have. Even so, I hardly ever wear make-up - maybe once every two weeks something will come up that I'll put on foundation for.
I have hazel eyes. They are very near-sighted. I have a cowlick in my right eyebrow, so getting them even is a chore.
I have 6 gauge holes in each earlobe. This is my only body modification as of right now. The left ear has some scar tissue from the last stretch (I wasn't patient) so I'm waiting awhile before I stretch again. Right now the goal is 2 gauge, but we'll see if I ever make it there, or if I decide that's still not big enough once I am there.
I used to color my hair at home, just for kicks, then started getting highlights done professionally. I had fun for awhile with orange and purple streaks, but highlights are expensive and by the time I moved to Florida, I didn't have the money or the desire to be high maintenance. I plucked two silver hairs out of the top of my head last week. My hair is past my shoulders now, but if I get serious about the motorcycle, I may take five inches off so it all stays in the helmet.

TaDa

2005-03-20T22:38:00.000-05:00

Chapter One

So there's this new site for meeting people with similar interests. It's called Memetika. It's interesting because anyone can create a group, or meme, about anything they want - there are categories for books, music, movies, activities, and general culture - then you can see how many memes you have in common with other people. If you create a meme but no one joins it, after two days it goes extinct. It's kind of like the best of the facebook and any site that allows you to view people's profiles. And for now, it's free.

Chapter Two

Every once in awhile, there will be something that I "must" do, but I don't want to do, and I'll get all bent out of shape about it. It's usually an assignment for class, and there have been a couple of times that I've just decided not to do an assignment and dealt with whatever consequences that decision brought. This time it was an assignment that was due February 28th, but we get one "no questions asked" late assignment in this class, so I decided to blow it off. The timing seemed right - I was going to Tampa to visit my family the weekend before it was due, and the next week was spring break - seemed like a good time to catch up.

The problem that I didn't see was that I just didn't seem to get what the assignment was about. By the time I realized I needed to talk to my professor about it, well, it was already due. Then, she went to London over spring break, so I couldn't exactly drop by her office and ask her about it. I also didn't want to ask her about it because I'm doing very well in the class, and I didn't want her to suddenly think I'm a moron.

So I put it off, put it off, but I couldn't really relax and enjoy anything because I kept saying "you should be working on that paper". Well, yesterday I went on a hunger strike. I actually refused to eat until I finished the paper. It sort of worked - I'd find my mind wondering, I'd be playing around online instead of doing research, and suddenly, my stomach would growl. I'd think to myself "I should eat something..." but instead of going to the kitchen, I'd go back to work on the paper.

Around 8pm I was on the closing paragraph, and I broke down and ate some pizza with Ryan. It then took me until 2am to finish that paragraph, but I finally submitted the assignment. It was about 600 words shorter than it should have been, and it might be the worst paper I've ever written in my life, but at least it's done and I don't have to think about it anymore.

Chapter 3

ULTRA!!!

This Friday, I am heading to Miami with all my raver friends for the biggest electronic music show in the country. I'm not going to even try to list all the artists that are performing - just check that link of you're interested. This is the most clusterfuct trip I've ever been a part of. I've rented a car, but everyone going is under 25 so I have to register my other drivers AND pay extra to give them the privilege to drive. The other couple that was supposed to be riding with Ryan and myself are fighting right now. He thinks that She is hooking up with another friend of ours, who is not only also going, but is the brother of the girl who booked the hotel. The hotel that 20 of us are going to be crashing in for two nights.

I don't need this kind of drama. I am 25 years old. The fact that I am going to drive 8+ hours, crash on the floor somewhere, wake up, dress like a teenager, take some kind of hallucinogen, dance for 13 HOURS, find somewhere to crash for a couple hours and then drive 8+ hours home is amazing enough. There doesn't need to be a full-blown relationship disintegration thrown in too. And this couple, they're the kind who love to have huge ugly fights right out in front of everyone else. Good times!

I refused to have a bad attitude about this. Everything is going to be alright (I keep telling myself).

Chapter Four

I turned down a job last week, after nearly three month of frantically trying to get one. This seems counterintuitive, but there were a number of forces at work. First, I decided to go to school full-time this summer, so I couldn't have worked the hours the job required. Second, I wasn't real excited about the job - data entry at a car dealership. Not real life-affirming. But the main reason was because they wanted me to take a drug test.

Now, I don't talk about my drug use a whole lot on this site, mostly because I don't want to be thought of as a stereotypical drug user. If I had taken this test, there is no doubt in my mind I would pass - in fact, I took one last summer, during the height of my drug use, and passed it no problem. The only recreational drugs I take are ones that exit the system after only a couple of days, and I've only done them three times so far this year. It's just the principle of drug testing that bothers me. What exactly is being accomplished by a pre-employment drug screen? If I smoked pot two weekends before being hired, I'd most likely fail the drug screen, but that doesn't mean that I have some kind of problem that would impair me at the job. On the other hand, if I snorted a line of coke on the way to the drug screen, I could still piss clean. How fair is that?

Now is not the time to list all the social ramifications of drug screening, but I decided after that test last summer that I didn't want to work for a company that required a drug screen. It's a matter of principle. But I was so desperate for a job, when the car dealership told me I'd have to take one, I just nodded my head. I felt pretty low for a couple days, and I finally realized that if I went through with the drug test, I'd hate myself. It doesn't matter that I'd pass, even though I'd partied about a week and a half before - it mattered that there are plenty of people out there who do NOT have drug problems, who would be fine employees, but who wouldn't be able to have a job like mine because their drug of choice stays in the system longer. I'd feel like a traitor. So I didn't take the job.

Chapter Five

When I had my biopsy last week, the nurse told me that I couldn't resume normal activities (aka have sex) for two or three days. I decided to be extra careful and waited four days. Last week, I started having a lot of pain and finally went to the student health center to see what was wrong. As I explained to the nurse the timeline of the surgery, the biopsies, the sex and the pain she got all excited and was like, "You had sex after FOUR DAYS!" I guess I should have waited two weeks. I told her that the other nurse (at a different clinic) had told me two or three days, and she was appalled. So now I'm out of commission and I feel like shit. What a combination.

She also told me that my cervix is twice as big as a normal cervix. I'm not sure this will ever do me any good (in fact, it seems to be a problem since it keeps wanting to develop tumors) but now I know myself that much better.

Chapter Six

I took the bike out today. Third time on the road, whoo-hoo! I'm still not comfortable riding alone, because making navigation decisions in addition to everything else might cause my brain to have a meltdown. I was doing all sorts of things wrong today, but, just like the other times, I didn't die so I guess I'm learning.

Ryan's friend Kevin went with us for awhile. Ryan led, Kevin brought up the rear, and I was the meat in a motorcycle sandwich. Even though Kevin didn't give me a hard time, I quickly learned how to take off fast because I knew he was waiting behind me. We wanted to eat at Fazoli's, and you have to make a U-turn across three lanes of traffic to get into the place - my execution was flawless. I felt pretty good about myself after that. I also maneuvered some hills in stop and go traffic without stalling out. I'll tame that thing yet!

Chapter Seven

I'm convinced there is a thin, muscular woman inside of me, and she's trying to get out. I went running last Monday (running is a stretch - I'd sprint a block or two, then walk half a mile gasping for air) and was sore until Friday. Baby steps. Don't worry honey, I hear you. I'll get you out of there, I promise.

Epilogue

This post is 300 words longer than that paper I was bitching about in Chapter Two.

Fear Is The Mind-Killer

2005-03-13T12:54:00.000-05:00

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."

Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear, from Dune

I love the works of Neale Donald Walsh. If there is one idea from his books that has really rang true for me, it is that all decisions are based on either love or fear - that all emotions boil down to one of these. At my best I embrace this idea and shun all decisions based in fear.

Lately though, fear has been creeping back into my life. Partially because of how last November's elections went, partially because the police were rumored to have caught wind of the activities I was involved in last summer, partly because I watched my money draining away and no job in site, partially because of my (unsuccessful) surgery and the denials of my insurance claims . . .

Some of the things I feared were beyond my control, some of them were the direct results of my actions, but the fear began to slowly erode my self confidence until I realized that I wasn't even leaving the house for days at a time.

I've been working hard at turning the fear around, loving myself, the people around me and the things I do, but it is quite a process and I often slip back into living in fear.

My fear of the motorcycle was twofold: I was afraid of getting into an accident and hurting myself, but I was probably MORE afraid of not being a good rider and looking silly. This fear was increased by the fact that I'm a woman, since (at least in this town) riding is the realm of the kind of uber-macho guys I don't normally associate with. I was afraid of not being able to keep up, of feeling like I have to prove myself, of not having the ability to do so, pushing too hard, and then getting myself killed trying.

Of course, Ryan isn't one of those kind of guys. He's never told me I couldn't ride (or do anything for that matter) just because I don't have a cock. I finally confessed my fears to him, and although he couldn't really relate, he saw how to encourage me without being patronizing, and to give me pointers without making me feel like he expected me to fail.

So yesterday we went out on a REAL ride. We probably only rode ten miles, but since we live downtown, this was quite a feat. We rode to the speed shop, and I didn't crash in front of the other riders. The shop is situated a level below the street, so it's a pretty steep drive to get out. The street it is situated on is three lanes either direction with a lane in the middle - the main road from the freeway into the capital. I panicked pulling out and nearly hit Ryan, dropped the bike, drove into oncoming traffic, but I DIDN'T, and more importantly, I recovered quickly and enjoyed the rest of the ride.

Riding is exhilarating, even at the easy pace I ride. And I'm learning to love the little mistakes I make. Yes, a mistake on a motorcycle could easily cost me my life, but it could also just make me learn what not to do next time, and increase my confidence as I think "wow, I just screwed up and I'm still alive!"

Riding is reminding me that I create my reality, and if I keep telling myself I'm going to get in an accident and hurt myself, well, pretty soon I WILL get into an accident and hurt myself.

Riding is also teaching me that I don't have to be perfect - that I can make small mistakes (or even some large ones) and I won't be destroyed utterly - but I can learn from them.

Most importantly, I'm learning to love the bike instead of fear it, which is reflecting on how I feel about everything in my life. I'm not worrying about how others see me, but how well I think I'm doing. And as long as I love myself, I'll continue to do well.

MILESTONE

2005-03-11T00:19:00.000-05:00

Today I took the motorcycle out on the road for the first time ever.

I finally got a leather riding jacket. It's pretty hot. I realized that this jacket looks too good to be a bitch jacket. It deserves better. Now I'm inspired to learn (plus, I have a nice protective jacket in case I fall off).

Pretty hot, eh?

File This Under Too Much Information

2005-03-10T00:19:00.000-05:00

So yesterday, I got to see my cervix. It looks like a cream saver.

Honestly. I was lying there, and there was a monitor, and I could see what was happening. It was very surreal. I guess the cervix has no nerves, so when a biopsy is taken, you can't feel it like you would if it was taken out of your leg. I watched this evil claw-like thing grab my flesh and waited for the pain, but it never came. Instead, it just made me feel a little sick to my stomach. Very bizarre.

So in two weeks I find out if I have to have more surgery. For what it's worth, I'm not really worried about it. I think I'm more worried that my insurance company is going to deny the claim for the biopsy than that it's going to say something is seriously wrong.

In other news, I had a job interview today. I don't think it went so well. It was a committee interview, which just means that three people sat in the room with me and took turns asking me questions. The first question: "tell us about a time when you had to file things alphabetically." Umm... wow.

So I made the lefthand sidebar so I could list books I've read and movies I've seen recently. My hope was that as new people come to the site, they might connect with me over something they too have seen or read. Unfortunately, there's no place for comments over there. Also, I read so much and see so many movies, that nothing ever stays on the list for very long. I guess if I really wanted to talk about books or movies, I should join a book or movie forum. I could also actually post about a particular book or movie (like many of you do). It is more interesting to just throw some titles over there and see if someone gets something out of them serendipitously.

I Love Lists And Ryan

2005-03-05T14:00:00.000-05:00

Ryan is 5 years and 8 months younger than me.
He is finishing up his second year in the graphic design program, but has yet to take a graphic design course.
He doesn't believe in an afterlife of any sort (which I find frightening).
He has so far worked at four different places in 2005.
He grew up in California.
He has 9/16" bamboo plugs in each ear, which were a Christmas present from me.
He knows the url for this blog, but I have no idea if he reads it.
He told me once that we've been in love for as long as we've known each other - it just took some time for us to realize it. That's pretty accurate.
Right now he owns two motorcycles, one of which is going into my name as soon as I get a job.
He has developed an intolerance to shellfish, which may be related to his pierced tongue. This is unfortunate since we both love shrimp. Now I suffer shrimp guilt whenever we eat out.
His father died when he was three.
He has a half brother ten years older who also has a girlfriend named Kelly.
He's afraid of spiders.
He babbles and twitches in his sleep, but thank god he doesn't snore.
Two of his previous lovers have gone on to make adult videos.
He weighs less than me.
He has to have a hernia operation next month.
He is incredible at liquid dancing and glowsticking, though kind of weird about having people watch him dance.
He had a "chin bush" when we met August 2003. He shaved it off last summer. It took me a couple days to notice, though I did notice I was even more attracted to him than usual. He grew it back later.
He has a Prince Albert that he no longer wears jewelry in. It'll never close up. The doctor he saw about the hernia thought it was a birth defect.
He thinks his purpose in life is to help people. This may or may not be intentionally vague. This also may have happened, so he could die with his purpose fulfilled.
He's always had a thing for Asian women
For a long time, he only had one pair of shoes. He now has four. I'm so proud.
He is the most important person in my life.
He considered marrying me a couple of months after we met, just so I could get in-state tuition.
He's never smoked a cigarette.
I've never met anyone who can deal with my mood swings like he does. He seems to know when I need prodding to get out of a funk, and when I just need patience and to be left alone.
He bought a car last year on eBay. Big mistake.
He used to be very jealous and possessive in relationships, but he's doing the open relationship with me to teach himself to get over it. It's a process for both of us.
He has no idea how many people I've slept with. He guessed too high once, but I wasn't at all offended.
He spends a ridiculous amount of time on the internet.
His mom is pretty high-maintenance in the attention department. At least she likes me.
He has an amazing sense of self for someone so young. He thinks it was because he was bullied at lot when he was a kid.
He doesn't know my email password. I don't know his. Otherwise, we don't really keep secrets.
He's a cat person. So am I. He and my cat get along really well.
He has VERY fair skin.
He kisses like a girl, which is always good.
He talked me into living with him. I thought he was crazy when he suggested the idea. So far, he's been right.
He lets me make all the unimportance decisions because I'm such an Alpha.
BEST SEX EVER. EVER.

This post was inspired by Dean's list about the sxKitten.

Beautiful And Dangerous (I Wish I Was)

2005-02-28T00:48:00.000-05:00

But I'm just intelligent and indecisive.

When I was younger I had four girl friends from church camp. We called ourselves the fab five. All of these girls were cute, except me. I mean, I was attractive I guess, but not cute. I wasn't that much bigger than the rest of the girls, but I was more of a jock, more assertive, more masculine I guess, so no one ever considered me cute.

We were all sitting around one day commenting on how cute we all looked (imagine "Oh Lisa, your hair is so cute!" "Thank you Catie, I think YOU'RE cute!" "Well, I think COLI'S cute!" "And I think ROBIN'S cute!"), but when it came to me, there was a pause. Then the group came to the unanimous and perhaps not surprising conclusion that I was many things, but cute was not one of them.

When I started college, my first boyfriend called me cute. I was shocked and confused, but after awhile he convinced me that it was possible. Now Ryan is always accusing me of doing cute things (but I'd say HE'S the cute one of the couple).

I asked my family to try and think of one word to describe themselves this weekend. My grandma said she's "worrisome". My dad said "boring" but changed it to "down-to-earth". Grandma said grandpa was obviously "ornery". And this is embarrassing, but I can't remember if my mom ever came up with a word.

I've also been recently called "kind of lazy", but I'd say "unmotivated" is more accurate.

Wild And Crazy Guys

2005-02-24T17:57:00.000-05:00

So let's see...

Ryan and I decided to switch things up a bit by sleeping with our heads at the opposite end of the bed. We don't have a headboard or footboard, but the imagined head of our bed sits against the wall where I generally have some kind of decorative pillow acting as a headboard. We slept with our feet resting on our "headboard". The good thing about the switch was that my lamp was on the other end, so I couldn't sit up all night reading, like I normally do. Ryan slept all right but woke up wondering where he was. I slept pretty good but woke up with a cold which I've yet to get rid of.

I dragged my sniffling self to class yesterday, and have pretty much stayed in bed since. I didn't work on any assignments and I didn't go to class today.

Unfortunately, my parents have flown to Florida to visit my grandparents who live five hours away from here. Ryan and I were planning on leaving tomorrow morning to spend the weekend with them. The best part - his parents are going to drive over Sunday and we're all going to lunch together. It'll be the first time our parents have met.

But I have two assignments due by midnight Friday, and another due Monday. I can't do them without the computer, and the thought of bringing my laptop down to grandma's and working on a dial-up makes me want to stab out my eye with a pencil. Plus, hanging out with Ryan's fam while I blow my nose every five minutes doesn't sound like a good time either.

But I miss my parents and I want to see them. So back to working on the assignments, then back to bed (hopefully to wake tomorrow feeling human again).

Mom, I Was Wondering...

2005-02-21T19:41:00.000-05:00

"Mom, have you ever slept with anyone other than dad?"

"Not since we got married."

I've always been impressed with my mom for this answer. Those five words said so much. I asked this question four years ago, and haven't brought up the subject since.

My Overactive Imagination

2005-02-17T00:29:00.000-05:00

I'd been meaning to do this for awhile, but Diva's imminent departure really got my ass in gear. I invited everyone from my corner of Blogistan over for a get-together.

JC offered to DJ. He and Brian spent the rest of the night choosing perfect songs that the rest of us had never heard before. In person, Brian was (as I'd always suspected) a polite, engaging individual. He also had the best hair of all the bloggers at the party.

Dean and the sxKitten arrived sans House Apes/Monkey Boys. The split as soon as they walked through the door - the sxKitten to talk to Trillian, and Dean to wish Diva farewell. They didn't say two words to each other for the rest of the night, but time to time I caught them smiling at each other from across the room.

I expected David and Nerina to spend the evening together analyzing American Idol or the OC, but Paul got them and Stacy to play some kind of drinking game. Stacy won the game, but that means she was the most sober, so I guess it's how you look at it.

I slipped Katz a pill instead of a cocktail. She camped out by the speakers with a smile on her face. Chris kept an eye on her, made sure she had plenty of water, while Gabe and Jamie had a long conversation about Wes Anderson films.

Worldgineer and Steve took turns trying to keep Wheelson's attention, but he seemed too distracted to carry on much of a conversation - he just kept watching the door. I think he actually believed me when I told him I'd invited Blah (I was kidding).

Diva arrived, looking stunning. She made the rounds, allowing people to express how much they enjoyed her writing, but she seemed detached. I think part of her hadn't wanted to come at all - better to leave before she really got to know us. She slipped out early, but not before I gave her a parting gift.

Not long after JC cut the music, Ryan came home. He walked right into the other room without acknowledging that anyone was there. I couldn't believe how rude he was being. I followed him to find out what was wrong. He seemed fine, gave me a hug and commented that I looked a little dressed up. "I wanted to look nice for the party" I said. "What party?" he asked. I looked at him, confused. "The blogger party..."

"Oh, how did it go?"

"If you'd stop being so rude and go back into the other room, you could see for yourself."

He returned the confused look, and walked back into the other room. "What am I looking for again Kel?"

I slowly followed him, afraid of what I would see, or more specifically, what I wouldn"t see.

There was Ryan, standing alone in the middle of the floor.

"Well, it would have gone well" I mumbled, and left Ryan, mystified, in the empty room.

Psych

2005-02-13T02:52:00.000-05:00

So, three hours before it was time to head down south, I got a call from Gary saying not to come. Part of me was relieved, because I didn't know how I was going to keep up with classes while working 13 hour days, and I needed to take care of the whole insurance situation. But, as the day went on, I realized how nice that extra money would have been, and was bummed out. Ah well.

I saw an ad on FSU's student job website asking for people to deliver flowers on Valentine's Day. I have not celebrated this holiday for ten years now, but I think watching people get excited about flowers is something I could get into.

I don't believe in V-Day because I don't like having someone do or buy something for me because they feel obligated to. I hate watching V-Day become some kind of contest where girls brag about what their guys did for them. I hate hearing guys call it "tax day." I hate the pressure to have some kind of over-the-top romantic outing. I hate that V-Day gifts are so generic. But most of all, I hate how it makes single people feel like second-class citizens.

I do understand the point of the holiday though if you're already in a relationship. Often we'd love to do something special for our significant others, but it's hard to find the time or motivation. Designating at least one day a year to get romantic and creative is nice.

But not nice enough to convince me to do it.

My mom and grandma always get me a gift though. I don't mind because I know they love me all year long.

See Ya

2005-02-10T03:29:00.000-05:00

Nerina has announced she's taking a vacation from the blog. Well, she beat me to it. I leave tonight (or possibly early Friday) to go down south awhile and make some money.

No, this has nothing to do with drugs, unless you count alcohol.

I'm going to bartend for my old company for ten days. I'm hoping to come back with $1,000 after expenses. Gary told me to expect much, much more than that, but I'd rather be pleasantly surprised than horribly disappointed.

I'm bringing my laptop to keep up with school, but I'll be using Gary's dial-up so I doubt I'll have time to keep up on the blogs. If I can find some time, I'll be sure to post why I don't celebrate Valentine's Day. Otherwise, I'll be back on the 20 th.

At Least It Was Benign

2005-02-06T20:36:00.000-05:00

So my insurance company has denied all claims regarding the surgery I had back in November.

This means :

$1,000 for the surgeon
$5,000 for the surgery center
$500 for the anesthesiologist
$500 for the biopsy

Now, the day before the surgery, I sat down with one of the doctor's insurance specialists. She called my insurance company while I was in the room, and figured out exactly how much I would be expected to pay ($280 - $200 deductible, $80 for my percentage of the surgery). So I paid this, and came back the next day, and had the surgery.

Now I'm getting bills from all four places. The insurance company says it needs paperwork from the registrar's office proving I was a student at the time of the procedure. Then it says that the surgery wasn't covered because I wasn't referred through the Student Health Center. Actually I was, but my paperwork was lost, so I had to get a copy and send that in with the form from the registrar. I've called everyone involved, letting them know what the problems were and that all the paperwork has been sent out, and could they please re-file the claims.

Friday, I received a packet from the insurance company with a statement about not covering preexisting conditions and pages of paperwork about who I'd seen and what I'd taken in the year leading up to changing to this policy.

So tomorrow, I'm going down to the student insurance office with a huge stack of bills and letters and getting this all straightened out before I stress out so much I end up back in the hospital with no referral and get billed for that too.

Comment Whore

2005-02-02T01:25:00.000-05:00

Some of you may remember that I used to have another blog. It looked pretty much like this one except I put a little bit of effort into the sidebar (current reads, last movie I'd seen, etc). I had to retire it because if one Googled my full name, email address, or IM screenname, voila! There was my blog, complete with stories about drugs, my sex life, and other things potential employers and my mom didn't need to come across. Jessie turned me on to this story which shows what can happen when a blog falls into the wrong hands.

So I regrouped under a pseudonym (although that is my picture and I do use my first name on here from time to time) and started blogging away. I only recently realized that my new blog didn't have the same kind of depth that the old blog had. Wheelson's post from last week already had me thinking about what makes a blog good (or not). Granted, there were some posts on my old blog that were on-par with Blah's post about the foglight (the my-speakers-stopped-working thank-god-they're-under-warranty-post was special), but for the most part I felt like I blogged when I had something to say, not just to have fresh content. Then Steve left the comment "great blog" just when I was starting to think I should put some more effort into the thing.

I realized that my favorite blogs are interesting not just because of what the owner posts, but because of the comments, and this blog seems to get a fair amount. Also, seeing the same names commenting on a number of blogs makes feel I get to know people better than I would from just reading their blogs.

I think that is what has made this new blog interesting – not what I say, as much as what others say in response. So thanks for the comments, and I hope I continue to say things that give you all something to talk about.

Ryan calls me a comment whore, but he doesn't have a blog, so he doesn't understand.

Throwing A Bone To JC (And The OC)

2005-02-01T01:41:00.000-05:00

"I don't think we'll gain fans. . . I think people will buy the record though. I think a lot of people bought the record after we were on Dave Letterman and Conan, but I don't think you can really gain actual fans who are going to really care about the band through such a mass-market thing."

- Hamilton Leithauser of The Walkmen on appearing on The OC

I have never seen the OC, nor do I exactly understand what makes a band "indie", but I found this article interesting.

Mozilla Firefox Rocks My Socks

2005-01-31T23:57:00.000-05:00

'nuff said.

I Love Canadians (Who Read This Blog)

2005-01-30T04:34:00.000-05:00

I just realized that a lot of the blogs I read, along with a lot of the posts left on this site, are written by Canadians. I used to think that Canada was just the big northern state, but I have finally learned this is not the case.

Now, people who don't speak English well kind of freak me out, and I'm not just talking about foreigners, but also rednecks, rappers, and girls that say "like" a lot. I fear that a failure to communicate will offend the people I come into contact with.

Of course, the Anthropology Major in me has a strong desire to learn about other people and find out what other cultures think of my own. But with the whole language barrier, I rely a lot on Canadians to put things into perspective for me. And Paul, but you always tell stories about Canada, so I just kind of lump you in there too, sorry.

I wish I spoke EVERY LANGUAGE EVER INVENTED (even computer languages). And knew sign language.

Don't Ask

2005-01-29T03:57:00.000-05:00

Asking the right kind of question is an art form.

For example: you have to have some kind of surgical procedure.

There are plenty of people who need to know that you are having surgery (boss, professor, family, etc) but exactly what kind and what for might not be any of their business. So when you say, "I can't make it tonight because I just had surgery," the WRONG question would be, "What for?" The right kind of question would be, "Did it go well?" or "Are you feeling ok?" That's the kind of question that shows concern, but doesn't force anyone into the uncomfortable position of telling someone to mind their own fucking business.

Sometimes, something is going on in a person's life that overshadows all else. It dictates what they do and how they feel. Letting others know that something is wrong is a good thing – it's a warning that maybe you might say something you don't mean or get upset for seemingly no reason – but most people can't abide by just knowing "something" is up – they have to know all the intimate details of that something. We're a society of voyeurs – how else can you explain the popularity of "reality" tv?

I use instant messenger to keep in contact with my family and friends back in Ohio. I tend to put up away messages that pretty accurately depict what I'm up to or how I'm feeling, because I live 900 miles away, and it's a good way for them to check in on me (and vice-versa). So sometimes I want to leave an away message up that says "something fucking awful is going on so I don't really feel like chatting about partying or seeing some stupid webpage (that I would normally think was really funny) and if you EVEN get on here and IM me drunk I will probably say something so nasty it will end our friendship."

But that's not really practical, is it? And then I'll have everyone on my buddy list asking me "WHAT HAPPENED?!?!? WHAT’S WRONG?!?!?!" and my sister will report to my mom that there's a crisis situation in Florida and maybe by the time I take down the away message I'll be over whatever it was and then all these people asking will just rehash it.

I should probably just turn IM off in that situation . . .

But honestly. Not everyone in my life needs to know about everything in my life. And my best friends are the ones that can see the signs that something is wrong, whether in person or from my angry-face away message, and will say something like, "I hope things get better." Not, "give me every detail!"

There are things that happen to me that I want the people who care about me to know about in the sense that they know something is wrong, it will pass, but in the meantime, please handle me with care. That’s all. I don't want to bring them into this 9^th circle of hell that is happening. I want this to pass with as few people knowing about it as possible, so it won't get brought up again. I want it to be over, and to not think about it except in the vague sense that I know things can go bad and I learn.

I hope I learn.

Lunch Is Cheaper Than Dinner

2005-01-28T16:41:00.000-05:00

So I had my (belated) birthday lunch today at Chez Pierre. I don't often eat French food, and I was kind of intimidated by the menu – I couldn't pronounce most of the items listed. I ended up with a cup of Creamy Florida Seafood Chowder with gulf grouper, clams, baby shrimp, bay scallops and smoked gouda, and Phyllo-Wrapped Atlantic Salmon with shrimp, crab, and scallops served with a saffron cream sauce, crisp green beans, and roasted grape tomatoes (yes, I pulled all that right from the menu). Everything was delicious, but so rich I couldn't finish. The little roasted tomatoes may have been only for decoration, but I ate a couple and they were incredible. Who knew roasting a tomato could improve it so much?

Ryan had some kind of steak, and with a generous 25% tip, we only spent $40. Oh, the genius of having birthday lunch instead of dinner. Now we still have $60 to spend on the rest of the weekend.

Oh right, I didn't mention where the $100 came from. Well, my mom knows that Ryan and I are living well below the poverty level, and the job search hasn't been successful for either of us. So she sent RYAN a check for $100, with a message to take me out someplace nice for my birthday. He took it in stride instead of seeing it as an insult to his manhood.

Maybe we'll spend the other $60 on drugs. That should make for some good blogging this weekend.

On another note – thanks to Brian Hell for recommending the Sigor Ros album Ágætis Byrjun on his blog. It's been my new favorite thing to listen to over and over without realizing it, and as an added bonus, I recognized that song at the end of The Life Aquatic. I love that feeling.

Not A Bad Start

2005-01-27T01:46:00.000-05:00

After seeing Alisha's cake, I had to have the word "fucking" on mine too.

Kelli took me out to lunch at Red Lobster. For some reason I thought I was going to have to pay for both of us, but she grabbed the check. Happy Birthday to Me! Then we went to my favorite piercing shop, What's the Point, and I got not one but TWO pairs of 6 gauge acrylic ear decorations. Thanks to grandma for sending the money.

Ryan bought me this sexy motorcycle helmet, and he bought some passenger pegs so I can ride with him. I'm not going to totally give up on me riding on my own either, and now I have a helmet that will actually fit.

The coolest present so far (also from Ryan) was the case of Milk Duds. My movie-going experience just isn't complete without popcorn and Milk Duds, and now I can smuggle these in instead of paying $3 a box. Whoo-hoo!

My sister called right at midnight to say that the present from my fam (mom and dad pay for it, she picks it out and ships it - nice teamwork guys) will be late. No word what it is. Then she puts Gary, a guy I used to work with back in Ohio, on the phone. He says that he'll be in Tampa in February, and if I want to come work for a week, I could make about $3,000. Now THAT would be nice. I'd miss a week of class for three grand. He said I'd be bartending. . . now he knows the only experience I have bartending has been out of my own home. . . that said, I did host a pretty slick happy hour every Thursday at the old apartment. I'll have to get more details on this.

So far, 25 isn't as bad as I thought it would be . . .

Have You Ever Seen The Likes Of This?

2005-01-25T01:36:00.000-05:00

This was awhile ago, probably August. Ryan and I were enjoying each other's company, and I got a little too enthusiastic and gave him a nice swat. He didn't notice it at the time, but about an hour or so later, the outline of my hand appeared, blistered on his side.

About two weeks later, he returned the favor. Just like he said, it didn't hurt at the time, but it sure looked nasty later.

The pattern of only the outline of the fingers reminds me of cave paintings.

It's Been A Week

2005-01-24T02:23:00.000-05:00

So I'm posting the answers to my iTunes lyrics challenge.

Starseed - Our Lady Peace
Throwing Stones - Paula Cole
Diamonds and Guns - The Transplants
Turn My Head - Live
Big Pimpin' - Jay-Z (guessed by Nerina)
One Step Closer - Linkin Park
Work It - Missy Elliot (guessed by JC)
All The Things She Said - T.A.T.U.
When You're Falling - Afro Celt Sound System
Good Times Bad Times - Led Zeppelin (guessed by JC)

Next time (if there's a next time) I'll set it to most listened to songs, so the list might better reflect my tastes. Then again, I JUST purged my music library, so these are all songs that made the cut. . . and I had to skip all the songs that didn't have lyrics. When you listen to mostly trance and movie scores, you get a lot of those.

My New Job?

2005-01-22T17:04:00.000-05:00

All body types and sexes needed to model for Art Life Drawing Courses. Pay is $10 per hour. Each class is 2.5 hours. Previous experience helpful but not necessary.

I can't believe I just applied for this position. Wait, yes I can believe that.

20 Semi-Necessities for a Happy Home

2005-01-20T17:34:00.000-05:00

Central Heating
High-speed internet
At least 1000 square feet of living space
A balcony, patio, or yard
Windows one would need a ladder to get to
Some semblance of privacy
Bathtub
Shower with good water pressure
Lots and lots of bookshelves
Large desk for my computer
Space for Ryan
Space for Ryan's bike
Huge, comfortable bed
Large table for games or puzzles
Comfortable seating arranged for conversation
Reading chair, just for me
Candles
Open kitchen (not big, just open)
Washer and Dryer
Two cats

Things I Could Live Without

Television
Air Conditioning
Dishwasher
Fancy appliances
Garage

Luxury Items in my Dream Home

Library
Secret room (with access hidden by bookshelves)
Bose speakers in every room (and outside)
California closets
Radiant heated flooring

(Note - I have no children and live with my significant other - if my situation changed, so would this list)

Ok Chris, Try This

2005-01-17T13:59:00.000-05:00

So Chris posted this challenge, and I only got one of his right.

I put iTunes on party shuffle, and then pulled some lyrics out of the first ten songs. Now I wait and see who can tell me what songs the lyrics came from. I'll cross them off as people get the right answers.

Too bad a lot of my songs don't have words. . .

1. I woke to find why the world wasn't glowing
It's darker as we end this ride
I've fallen back under the equator
I'm back inside, I'm back inside

2. It's you I hope for
And us I pray for
And me that I believed was wrong
But now my anger is my best friend
Careful, I may bite your head off

3. Every last soul must pay the last toll
In the dice game of life, who gets the last roll?
Is it the one with the suit? The one with the sack?
The one who hides behind his fuckin' gun and his badge?

4. Your eyes are crazy
I bowed to save my head and
I can't forget you
But I can't remember

5. I got no passion
I got no patience
And I hate waitin'
Ho get yo ass in and let's ride

6. All these thoughts
They make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance

7. Let's get drunk, that'll bring us closer
Don't I look like a Halle Berry poster
See the Belvedere playin' tricks on ya

8. And I'm all mixed up
Feeling cornered and rushed
They say it's my fault
But I want her so much

9. I can see through the clouds
I can walk right through the walls
Hang me off the ceiling
But I can't take the fall

10. Sixteen, I fell in love with a girl
As sweet as she could be
Only took a couple of days
'Til she was rid of me

Never A Dull Moment

2005-01-14T21:44:00.000-05:00

As I'm sitting here doing homework, Ryan walks in and stands beside me, like he's waiting for something. I didn't notice it at first, but he was wearing a small Santa's hat. . . on his penis.

See, this is why I love living together. If we didn't live together, he wouldn't often just shown up unannounced to give me a study break, and even if he did surprise me, it wouldn't be with a hat on his cock.

And to think I thought living together would be a bad idea. . . how wrong was I?

My Name Is Kelly, I'm A Bibliophile

2005-01-10T01:24:00.000-05:00

I've been neglecting my blog lately, mostly because I wanted to read as much as I could before classes started. Well, as of last Wednesday, I'm back in school again, with plenty of assigned readings. I did finish Dune before classes began, but I'm sorry to say I didn't realize it was part of a series, so the ending seemed a little abrupt. I read Cat's Cradle on the plane to Ohio, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest on the way back. I started reading The Purpose Driven Life for my mom while I was at home, because she'd given it to me the previous Christmas, and asked me to give it a shot. I hate it when someone tells me they're going to read a book and then they don't, so I read through chapter twenty before Ryan showed up and things got too hectic for me to get much reading done. If nothing else, it was interesting to read because it gave me a glimpse into my mom's belief system. We had a couple of interesting conversations about the book. It doesn't fit into my worldview though, so I'm not sure how much I'm getting from it.

One of my Christmas gifts from Ryan was Stranger in a Strange Land. The catch was that instead of wrapping it and giving it to me, he started reading it himself. I'd read it before and really liked it, and wanted him to read it. Actually, I've wanted him to read a LOT of things, but he doesn't read and I know better than to try and change him. That's the one area where we're really not compatible. I'd like it if he read more of the things I read so we could talk about them, but for now, I talk to others about books. I swear, if I just recreated my favorite books as websites, he'd have them all read in a week. But he knows that I would like it if he'd read once in awhile, so as a Christmas present to me, he let me pick out a book for him to read. He was already a third of the way through it by the time he got to Ohio, and he was really enjoying himself. He's not finished yet, but I know he will finish it (even if it takes him until Spring Break), and he's already asked me to think of another book he might like.

I'm not holding my breath that he's going to suddenly read like I do (who does?) but damn, I think he'd be so perfect for me then I wouldn't be able to stand it.

In the meantime, he's taking a literature class, so I'm reading the novels along with him for moral support. It's a mutually beneficial situation, because he'll be able to use my knowledge on his assignments, and I'll have someone to discuss what I'm reading with (even though I don't get to pick the book). We started the first one tonight - Bone by Fae Myenne Ng.

I've also been working through another gift - Eats, Shoots and Leaves. It's making me very paranoid about the things I "publish". I've never been a grammar nazi - I didn't learn the difference between its and it's until last year, but I have know the difference between your and you're, and their they're and there, thank you very much. As for commas . . . well, in the web world, I tend to use the - it's rather ambiguous. I also tend to abuse the ellipses. . .

Ice Ice Baby

2005-01-07T22:13:00.000-05:00

So we didn't have electricity on Christmas morning (or the 3 days before), but we sure had a nice view.

Between the propane heaters and gas fireplace, we stayed pretty warm. We played cards and dominos by Coleman lantern. My sister made us french toast on the grill for Christmas breakfast. Ryan and I melted snow in large pots on the grill to wash dishes.

The whole thing was kind of an adventure, and would have been completely comfortable if we'd had running water. Filling the toilets with melted snow got kind of tedious after awhile.

Also, I had my lobes stretched the day before the power went out, so my ears needed a lot of TLC (warm salt-water soaks) which they didn't get, which made them VERY angry. They seem to have recovered nicely though.

So Fresh And So Clean

2005-01-05T01:55:00.000-05:00

So, reformatting was fun. I spent an hour on the phone with a Dell technician, because he was determined to get me online before we hung up, even though all I needed from him was a video driver. I have a fickle, angry ethernet card AND a driverless wireless card (don't ask), and the combination was nearly too much for him, but finally, I was able to get online. All I had to do was restart my computer. Genius.

Classes start tomorrow. My bed is completely covered in the clothes that I've unpacked from the three suitcases I schlepped along for the three weeks I was gone. Most of them aren't even new. I would have been better off not doing any laundry on the trip so I could just throw them in a corner after I unpacked the suitcases. Alas, they are clean and neatly folded. Homes will have to be found for them all.

Speaking of homes, mine seems to have shrunk significantly since I was gone. I guess sleeping in a bedroom the size of my entire apartment kind of ruined me. My mom's house has a basement, garage, laundry room, pantry, storage room, walk-in closets . . . abundant storage for all sorts of stuff. My apartment is 550 square feet of Ryan, myself, and our aggressive colony of mold. And whoever was scheduled to come today and remove the mold never showed. The aparment might feel bigger once we can put things against the wall again.

If no one shows tomorrow, I'm turning our place in to the health department.

After class, of course.

An Epic Tale Of Ice And Snow...

2005-01-03T13:44:00.000-05:00

...will not be told in this post. Central Ohio was hit by an ice storm just before Christmas, and my family (plus Ryan) roughed it without electricity for three days. We did get some beautiful pictures, which I'll be sharing in a couple of days.

I managed to get tendonitis in my left shoulder, but I don't know how exactly. From carrying two suitcases and a duffel bag through the airport? From bailing out a hot tub with a bucket? From playing with my huge cat? Your guess is as good as mine, but I spent New Year's Eve in the ER, and I've been in a sling for the past three days.

Update on my potentially embarrassing situation with UPS - my package did arrive the same day I did, so I had a coat, shoes, and my sister's Christmas present from day one. Chris, you can validate this theory for me - I think UPS told me that they couldn't "guarantee" my package would get there when I wanted it because they wanted me to pay the expensive air-mail price.

When I left Tallahassee, it had been 24 degrees at night. Yesterday it was 72 with no clouds. I knew I moved for a reason!

Next, mom and dad are coming down to stay with my mom's parents in central Florida. Ryan and I decided that we should have our parents meet. [GASP!] It's that serious!

At least I feel like Ryan's mom likes me again. She was the one who took me to the hospital New Year's Eve. She told us later that she could have bought us some champagne, to which Ryan reminded her, "Mom, Kelly's 24."

Mission Accomplished

2004-12-17T01:51:00.000-05:00

Leaving for OH-IO tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to it, especially since it's only been 5 degrees colder there than here the past couple of days.

I really wanted to finish my music project before I left, and I DID! I whittled over 5,000 mp3's down to a manageable 1,800. They fit on my iPod with 2 GB to spare. I'm almost sad I have a direct flight tomorrow - sitting in the airport with my iPod sounds kind of nice.

Now if I just get those Bose TriPort headphones for Christmas, I'll be all set.

This Could Be Embarrassing

2004-12-15T01:49:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I'm so smart, I'm stupid.

I shipped my sister's Christmas present to Ohio today. I thought I'd save room in my suitcase by shipping all my winter shoes and my ski coat along in the same package.

The UPS website said if I mailed the package out today, for $10 it would get there Friday, same as me. That sounded good.

Once I arrived at the store, the guy working their told me I'd have to ship it 2 day air to guarantee a Friday arrival. That was $32. He said that was the only way he could guarantee it would arrive on time. He was reluctant to give me an estimate on when it would arrive via ground, but finally said sometime next week.

Well, that would give me plenty of time to give Bird her present, so I paid the $11 and sent the package.

Later, I realized that if the package didn't arrive until just before Christmas, that means I'd spend the better part of a week in Ohio with no winter coat and only one pair of shoes.

Get in the Spirit

2004-12-10T18:30:00.000-05:00

The one thing I like about living in Florida is that Christmas really sneaks up on you. Maybe native Floridians would disagree, or maybe it's just because I don't watch TV, listen to the radio (other than NPR), or often go shopping. The tinsel and garland at the library or Publix (the only public places I frequent) seem like a joke when the temperature still gets above seventy. There was a terrific thunderstorm last night - I can't imagine Santa's reindeer dodging lighting.

So, a week from today, when I head back north, I'm inevitably going to find myself surrounded with undeniable evidence that Christmas is on its way: cold weather (even if it's unseasonably warm in Ohio, it's going to be tough on me), garish lights, and Christmas songs pouring out of every shop and restaurant in Columbus. My parents' house will be lined with lights and garland (tasteful, not Griswoldish), and my mom will have transformed every room into some kind of winter wonderland. She'll have cinnamon candles burning, and pine-scent potpourri. Every day at least five cards addressed to the family will arrive. Then the whirlwind 5-day tour of family members' houses will climax with Christmas morning - just Mom, Dad, Bird (my 21 year old sister), myself, our cats. . .

And Ryan.

I never felt 100% sure about having Ryan spend Christmas morning with my fam. Christmas morning is sacred. It's a tradition that has never changed, and no outsider has ever been allowed to participate. I realize that I am almost 25 years old, and a quarter century of unchanging Christmas tradition is a very long time. But for logistical reasons, it was either allow Ryan to be there Christmas morning, or not have him for ANY of my family's celebration. Or I guess a third option would have been to put him in a hotel, to wake up Christmas morning alone.

Unacceptable!

So, Ryan will infiltrate our family tradition. We probably will open stockings in the living room instead of on my parents' bed. Mom will get dressed instead of lounging around in her PJ's. Little things that really aren't a big deal, except that they point out that I'm no longer a kid.

I was worried that Bird would feel left out, since she has been with her significant other longer than I've known Ryan, but he lives in town, so there's no reason for him to spend the night at our house. Also, his family is very serious about their Catholicism, so he'll be expected to go to mass while we're making french toast and watching the extended Return of the King on DVD. But I am three years older than Bird, so it makes sense in some way that I'd bring a S.O. home for the holidays before she got around to it.

The best gift that Ryan could get would be a six inches of snow on Christmas Day.

The Arrogance of _blank and Chess

2004-12-03T23:16:00.000-05:00

When you include a link on your blog, do you make sure that it opens in a new window? I do. I always have. But I think it's another sign of my arrogance. It's saying "although you might want to check this other page out, of course you'll want to return to my page, so I'll just leave it open for you."

I've decided it's time to learn to play chess. Ryan came in last night, and I was playing on his computer. I was getting all upset and yelling at the machine. He asked me if it was even possible to beat the computer, and I told him I didn't know, but maybe at the end it would tell me I'd put up a good fight. Of course it didn't.

Ryan knows how to play, but he doesn't take it very seriously or worry about strategy. He offered to play me last night, but I told him I didn't think I'd learn much from playing him. I think I might have hurt his feelings.

I want a Lord of the Rings chess set. Or at least I thought I did, until I realized that I don't completely understand the rules of chess and perhaps I'd be better off playing at the computer for now - at least then I know when I'm trying to make an illegal move.

The Motorcycle

2004-12-01T18:44:00.000-05:00

So, Ryan finally got his motorcycle. I was happy because he bought it from a shop in town instead of eBay. It's a Ninja 250, one of the smallest sport bikes you can get, but it's still a bike.

I haven't ridden since I passed the test in early September. Ryan and I scored the exact same on both the written and the riding portions, but he acted a little superior because he was the only person in the class who never dropped the bike (I only did once). For awhile, it looked like I was going to finance the bike for him, or at least co-sign on the loan, but then I decided to quit my job and I wasn't in the position to help anymore. His parents stepped in, which we never thought would happen, so now the bike is his, not ours like it would have been if I'd been involved.

And I haven't been on it. First, he was on it. Then it had to go back into the shop. Then I had a paper to write. Then it rained. Then I had surgery and just didn't feel very active. Then more rain. Then it needed oil drained out of it or something and he left for Thanksgiving. I just hasn't happened yet.

We went out once to the stadium parking lot, so I could get a feel for it again. Unfortunately a thick fog settled in and the lot became too slick. I think I also kind of wussed out - it was after midnight, it was cold, the drive over to the lot in the fog had been nervewrecking . . . I'm a big baby.

The thing is, Ryan keeps telling me how people in cars nearly kill him every time he goes riding, and I'm starting to get really psyched out. I understand that I need to get on the bike soon, because if he becomes comfortable enough to put me on the back before I get on the thing alone, I'll never learn. I'll just sit back and let him drive me around. Pride is my fatal flaw, and if I don't catch up with him soon, I'll never want to try.

And I'm not worried that I won't be able to handle the bike. If anything, I probably consider myself more capable than I actually am. It's other drivers I'm worried about. And stalling out at a stoplight, that would be embarrassing. But I do get a little nervous every time he goes out to ride. I try not to let it show - I don't want to dampen his spirits. And he wears his gear when he rides - full helmet with visor, leather jacket with body armor, riding gloves, and boots. But hearing him talk about these close calls he's had with other drivers has me wondering if I NEED to be on a motorcycle. It's not a burning desire in me like it is in him.

But I don't like to be afraid either. Maybe I'll take it out tomorrow, if it doesn't rain.

NaNoWriMo

2004-11-30T10:53:00.000-05:00

BTW - did any of you NaNoWriMos finish? I topped out at chapter six. I had to stop kidding myself, saying it was fiction and just admit I was telling about things that I'd lived through, and the reliving was just too tiring. Maybe next year, with some fictional characters.

The Less Than Triumphant Return

2004-11-30T10:51:00.000-05:00

For those of you who remember me, I had to take my blog down when I realized that my virtual identity could be easily traced to my flesh and blood identity. NO THANKS.

But, since I can't seem to keep my words to myself, I've been commenting on new blogs lately, and it just didn't seem fair to peek into people's lives without giving them something of me in return. Plus, I miss the comments!So, this isn't a fabulous return to blogging, but more of a half-assed comeback inspired by a late night and chemical enhancement. I hope to create something more aesthetically pleasing over winter break but hey! I still have a final, so the blog can only get so much of my love.

And for those of you who are new here, welcome! Sorry it's so bare. I think you can tell a lot about me from reading my profile, especially my interests. I'm a graduate student in library and information science, I grew up in Ohio, I have a BA in Anthropology, I'm kicking depression's ass at this point in my life. I live with a guy 5.5 years younger than me and I'm madly in love with him. Oh, and I'm unemployed. That pretty much sums me up. Cheers!