"You're pretty Nala. She's hardcore, and she owns Simba."
- My amazing new roommate
Rush tonight ahhhhh.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Sometimes I'm so consumed by my need to write that I can't even do my homework....
Like now.
The supernatural is really freaking me out right now. I've been having such a challenge with this complicated decision that I turned to the oracle cards my aunt gave me. I was almost alarmed when they said "follow your true heart's desire," "change to a new activity or class," "be bold and take a chance," and "expect a miracle." Then my horoscope told me to listen to family and friends' advice and to sift through a decision carefully. How do these things happen??
One good side benefit of this mini crisis is that I've coined new philosophical phrases to live by in my head, namely:
"You can't keep doing something forever just because you've always done it."
Like now.
The supernatural is really freaking me out right now. I've been having such a challenge with this complicated decision that I turned to the oracle cards my aunt gave me. I was almost alarmed when they said "follow your true heart's desire," "change to a new activity or class," "be bold and take a chance," and "expect a miracle." Then my horoscope told me to listen to family and friends' advice and to sift through a decision carefully. How do these things happen??
One good side benefit of this mini crisis is that I've coined new philosophical phrases to live by in my head, namely:
"You can't keep doing something forever just because you've always done it."
2 days of mammoth proportions
Yesterday was mostly one big nervous spasm.
I managed to get out the door ridiculously close to on time (9:07), and listened to the bluegrass gospel train show on my Sirius radio for the better part of 3 hours. Even managed a pit stop at my favorite gas station/convenience store/trucker bar when I had to pee. Peachy, right? Until I got back to campus and had to turn right back around and drive into Austin. And fight the insane Austin traffic. And navigate one way streets. Why do they make one way streets? Driving, especially in the city, stresses me out enough already, and then they add in confusing streets of doom for the directionally retarded (me). Fortunately Jack and Adam's new location doesn't suck like their old one, so I found it with comparative ease. Jack himself helped Ben pick out his new bike. The experience was disconcerting in a semi-pleasant way when Jack kept asking my professional opinion as a bike store employee. I just agreed with him for the most part. (Umm, yeah, the more carbon the better, right?) Somewhat cool to be asked for a second opinion by an expert. Ha...
Two hours and $1200 later, we discovered we didn't have reverse directions. Good thing for us all of the non-numbered streets run parallel to I35, as far as I can tell. I finally ate a meal when we got back but had to get in my car once again to drive to HEB for provisions, since my friend wouldn't relinquish her parking spot. I tried to finish unpacking after that, but my back was so seized up from the intensity of the day that I was walking around like an old woman. Our hall meeting was a different experience now that I live in a girls' dorm. People are all smiley and clappy and giggley. People are still ridiculous, male or female, however. When I introduced myself, a girl immediately said that we should watch The Little Mermaid. Hardyharhar, how original. Getting in my comfortable bed in my quiet room with the pleasant and wonderful roommate was the highlight of my experience.
Strange dream again, though. I was the first female president, at age 18. Somehow I caused a deluge of rubber torpedoes to smother a room full of models, yet no one suspected me. The secret service wasn't even escorting me or questioning me. I was just walking around with my mom, wondering why no one cared that I was the president. A family was just standing there smiling and I told them, "I've been awfully busy, being president, you know..." and they just gave me a look of indifference.
Today was the first day of class. Social Problems is on the 3rd floor of a very old and creepy building, far far away. My very good friend Robert is in it, though, and it seems really interesting in an I might want to actually do my homework kind of way. Sociology is very quickly capturing my interest. Then a meeting with my violin teacher, who told me not to quit violin because she didn't want to lose me as I was "blossoming."
From there I got my mail-- 2 Time magazines that I didn't know I was subscribed to, a small paycheck, and a letter saying I'd made dean's list. Psychology was in a room far too large for the class size or to hear the professor's uncompassionate and snarky remarks. From there, lunch and a meeting with my adviser. He told me to quit violin and focus on other things. His philosophy was that I shouldn't do if I couldn't live without it. How much I agree with that I'm not sure, but he was rather encouraging with his typical ego-puffing talk. This time he told me I'm one of "maybe 12" amazing writers on campus. Twelve was probably an arbitrary number, but I get his point and sure hope he's right.
Triathlon class followed, and I'm pretty excited about that. The first few weeks will probably be a bit slow and frustrating, but the reward is worth it. After class I popped into the training room to have them look at my hip, thinking it would be just a quick little exam...Little did I know I'd have an appointment for an xray in Austin tomorrow...or that I'd spend all afternoon dealing with insurance.
Orchestra proved even more confusing than my previous two opinions on the violin situation. The good news is that my teacher gave me the wrong grade and that I actually still have a 4.0. The bad news is that that makes my choice have less of a foundation. Her words aided my confusion further...She first said that she quit softball in college in order to play her flute more and that sometimes we have to make those kinds of choices. Then she said that I should learn the Alexander posture method so that I could keep playing, handed me a lady's information, and told me to go to class. Well, thanks for the no help at all.
WHAT DO I FREAKING DO?!??!
My mom's advice: sometimes you have to just yell "shit!" and jump.
On a completely different topic, I'm quite sure my roommate and suitemate know every pop culture reference ever. Every actor, every movie, every book. It's uncanny.
Wish me luck tomorrow...
I managed to get out the door ridiculously close to on time (9:07), and listened to the bluegrass gospel train show on my Sirius radio for the better part of 3 hours. Even managed a pit stop at my favorite gas station/convenience store/trucker bar when I had to pee. Peachy, right? Until I got back to campus and had to turn right back around and drive into Austin. And fight the insane Austin traffic. And navigate one way streets. Why do they make one way streets? Driving, especially in the city, stresses me out enough already, and then they add in confusing streets of doom for the directionally retarded (me). Fortunately Jack and Adam's new location doesn't suck like their old one, so I found it with comparative ease. Jack himself helped Ben pick out his new bike. The experience was disconcerting in a semi-pleasant way when Jack kept asking my professional opinion as a bike store employee. I just agreed with him for the most part. (Umm, yeah, the more carbon the better, right?) Somewhat cool to be asked for a second opinion by an expert. Ha...
Two hours and $1200 later, we discovered we didn't have reverse directions. Good thing for us all of the non-numbered streets run parallel to I35, as far as I can tell. I finally ate a meal when we got back but had to get in my car once again to drive to HEB for provisions, since my friend wouldn't relinquish her parking spot. I tried to finish unpacking after that, but my back was so seized up from the intensity of the day that I was walking around like an old woman. Our hall meeting was a different experience now that I live in a girls' dorm. People are all smiley and clappy and giggley. People are still ridiculous, male or female, however. When I introduced myself, a girl immediately said that we should watch The Little Mermaid. Hardyharhar, how original. Getting in my comfortable bed in my quiet room with the pleasant and wonderful roommate was the highlight of my experience.
Strange dream again, though. I was the first female president, at age 18. Somehow I caused a deluge of rubber torpedoes to smother a room full of models, yet no one suspected me. The secret service wasn't even escorting me or questioning me. I was just walking around with my mom, wondering why no one cared that I was the president. A family was just standing there smiling and I told them, "I've been awfully busy, being president, you know..." and they just gave me a look of indifference.
Today was the first day of class. Social Problems is on the 3rd floor of a very old and creepy building, far far away. My very good friend Robert is in it, though, and it seems really interesting in an I might want to actually do my homework kind of way. Sociology is very quickly capturing my interest. Then a meeting with my violin teacher, who told me not to quit violin because she didn't want to lose me as I was "blossoming."
From there I got my mail-- 2 Time magazines that I didn't know I was subscribed to, a small paycheck, and a letter saying I'd made dean's list. Psychology was in a room far too large for the class size or to hear the professor's uncompassionate and snarky remarks. From there, lunch and a meeting with my adviser. He told me to quit violin and focus on other things. His philosophy was that I shouldn't do if I couldn't live without it. How much I agree with that I'm not sure, but he was rather encouraging with his typical ego-puffing talk. This time he told me I'm one of "maybe 12" amazing writers on campus. Twelve was probably an arbitrary number, but I get his point and sure hope he's right.
Triathlon class followed, and I'm pretty excited about that. The first few weeks will probably be a bit slow and frustrating, but the reward is worth it. After class I popped into the training room to have them look at my hip, thinking it would be just a quick little exam...Little did I know I'd have an appointment for an xray in Austin tomorrow...or that I'd spend all afternoon dealing with insurance.
Orchestra proved even more confusing than my previous two opinions on the violin situation. The good news is that my teacher gave me the wrong grade and that I actually still have a 4.0. The bad news is that that makes my choice have less of a foundation. Her words aided my confusion further...She first said that she quit softball in college in order to play her flute more and that sometimes we have to make those kinds of choices. Then she said that I should learn the Alexander posture method so that I could keep playing, handed me a lady's information, and told me to go to class. Well, thanks for the no help at all.
WHAT DO I FREAKING DO?!??!
My mom's advice: sometimes you have to just yell "shit!" and jump.
On a completely different topic, I'm quite sure my roommate and suitemate know every pop culture reference ever. Every actor, every movie, every book. It's uncanny.
Wish me luck tomorrow...
Friday, January 11, 2008
I don't even go back to school for 2 more days, and I'm already physically homesick...like, worse than August. School is so fun, so exciting, in such a better location, so much to look forward to. But I want to stay here! I'm actually crying right now, as I type this through blurry eyes. It really doesn't help that I'm having my irrational guilt problem. My family keeps saying how much they'll miss me and how weird it will be...and I'm so obsessed with pleasing people and so in love with my family that it makes me feel bad for leaving them. Everyone is having such a hard time right now, I just feel terrible. I'm really bad at grieving. I wasn't even really homesick last semester. I've heard this part is worse though...
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Brain stuff
I've been having awfully vivid dreams lately...
In the first one I can remember from this week I was 9 months pregnant and more content than I've ever felt in my life-- except for in all of the other pregnancy dreams I've had, of which there are many. I insisted on going to the hospital on the due date rather than when the baby was actually coming and was pretty frustrated. I'm not even sure who the father was. Suppose that dream has a meaning...
The next one was kind of fun. At first I was hesitantly stepping into a ferris wheel...which then turned into a water slide...which turned into a pool and a triathlon. So this new triathlon I invented in my dream was a ferris wheel/water slide/swim combo. And I was racing just this blonde girl. I jumped in the wrong lane and lost a lot of time...but it was, after all, my dream, so I beat her in the end. I never lose in my dreams and always save the day. Sign of an egomaniac or strong confidence?
Funky feelings again...Remind me that this is why I don't watch tv. All of the shows involve twisted minds and tragedy, things I just don't want or need to think about. I need some comedy or at least some New Hampshire primary election news so I can have real things to think about.
In the first one I can remember from this week I was 9 months pregnant and more content than I've ever felt in my life-- except for in all of the other pregnancy dreams I've had, of which there are many. I insisted on going to the hospital on the due date rather than when the baby was actually coming and was pretty frustrated. I'm not even sure who the father was. Suppose that dream has a meaning...
The next one was kind of fun. At first I was hesitantly stepping into a ferris wheel...which then turned into a water slide...which turned into a pool and a triathlon. So this new triathlon I invented in my dream was a ferris wheel/water slide/swim combo. And I was racing just this blonde girl. I jumped in the wrong lane and lost a lot of time...but it was, after all, my dream, so I beat her in the end. I never lose in my dreams and always save the day. Sign of an egomaniac or strong confidence?
Funky feelings again...Remind me that this is why I don't watch tv. All of the shows involve twisted minds and tragedy, things I just don't want or need to think about. I need some comedy or at least some New Hampshire primary election news so I can have real things to think about.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Journalistic Inquiry
A question for all of you veteran journalists: Is the term "make out" an accepted, appropriate journalistic term? I read it on the 2nd page of the Chronicle today. Granted, it appeared in the trashy crap celebrity section with regard to Lindsay Lohan's penchant for a little (lot of) bubbly and fine Italian men. (On couches in dark corners, nothing sketchy...) Somehow making out just doesn't seem like something you see in the hallowed pages of the Houston Chronicle.
After several days of short viewing sessions and today leaving work after only two hours thanks to my feverish mother, I finally finished Almost Famous. Turns out people are right about its cinematic brilliance. Cameron Crowe is now also pretty much my hero. What kind of kid becomes a Rolling Stone writer at 16, then goes on to make some of the best movies of all time? Oh to be him. Journalist turned timeless director. Thank you, Cameron, for your genius, but no thanks for reminding me that I probably should start writing for the Megaphone, i.e. pathetic campus newspaper.
After several days of short viewing sessions and today leaving work after only two hours thanks to my feverish mother, I finally finished Almost Famous. Turns out people are right about its cinematic brilliance. Cameron Crowe is now also pretty much my hero. What kind of kid becomes a Rolling Stone writer at 16, then goes on to make some of the best movies of all time? Oh to be him. Journalist turned timeless director. Thank you, Cameron, for your genius, but no thanks for reminding me that I probably should start writing for the Megaphone, i.e. pathetic campus newspaper.
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