My Version of Grandma's Obituary

Grandma died around 5 a.m. on 12/27. As I had suspected, Death was a friend and she slipped away quietly and without fanfare. I like to think that Grandpa was waiting for her and I did ask her to put in a good word should she see him since we never met. The funeral and burial is on Thursday.

My version of my grandmother's obituary would look something like this:

Claudia Marie Ammons nee Cowan was born in Jay, Oklahoma in 1924 to a spirited woman. Due to her father being a bit of a louse, Claudia's mother took her to live with her parents and went to work to provide for her child. She remarried and proceeded to have several more children, most of whom were adults before they were aware that their eldest sister had a different father. During WWII, Claudia worked in a factory building planes, where she met the love of her life, George M. Ammons (1916-1979). They married on Christmas Day 1947 and attended college together at Oklahoma Baptist University. They later adopted a son, Randy, and had two daughters, Trisha and Georgianna. Claudia followed George to California to take a position as minister at the First Baptist Church of Fontana, where they would remain until he died. Claudia worked as church secretary while raising their children.

Following the unexpected death of her husband, Claudia moved to Shawnee, Oklahoma where she and George had bought a house and planned to retire. She worked as preschool teacher for Immanual Baptist Church, where she taught a generation of children who would always speak of her fondly. Being a small woman, she had trouble changing her light bulbs, but found help in the nice Jehovah's Witness boys who came to her door. She worked to convert them as they assisted her. She never sat jury duty because she was certain the accused had some good reason for their crime.

Claudia passed away suddenly on December 27th. She is survived by three children who adore her and their spouses who are grateful for such a warm mother-in-law, as well as 7 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren, all of whom she held in her arms as babies (including the one who was just born). She is also survived her sister-in-law (and oft partner in crime) Ina and her own sister Betty, who with her husband Curtis also has many children and grandchildren who think of "Aunt Claudia" as a rare breed of woman that each of us could only hope to try to be like. Finally, she is survived by scores of church goers, community members, children now grown and random strangers who have been touched by her life in a positive way. She does not leave behind those who might speak poorly of her, because no such people exist. She approached each day with love and gentleness, and left behind a more loved and gentle world.

The Disillusionment of Us

On Thursday night, late, Grandma fell. It happens often since her knees and ankles are distorted. However, this fall was different. This fall led Grandma to say the words no one ever expected to hear from her lips: "I think I need to go to the emergency room."

In our family, we have a long history of medical stubbornness. My sister went into labor and went back to sleep. My mother's tumors had grown to the size of golf balls before she had them looked at (benign, by the way, this was over a decade ago). But no one in my family refuses to admit when she's in pain quite like my diminutive, pleasant grandmother. She had a stroke and didn't bother to tell us. But she has conceded to the use of the life alert system since, when she falls, standing back up is nearly impossible for her to do without help.

So, Aunt Trisha took Grandma to the emergency room. The pain was reportedly pretty terrible (Grandma rated it a 10, which is also astounding given her default answer is "oh, it's not bad") and the ambulance techs said they suspected a broken hip. The doctors at the local hospital confirmed, but said they didn't have an orthopedic surgeon n call and transferred her to OKC. By this time, Grandma was on morphine and assuring everyone that she'd be out of the hospital by the next morning. Being funny on drugs is also a family trait.

They scheduled surgery for a partial hip replacement at 7 Christmas Eve morning. We were all there to see her before she went in, then camped out in the waiting room to await the surgeon. Per usual, talk centered around books and psychology. The surgeon said everything went really well and most of us departed. Notes back from the family member on shift was very positive on Saturday...she was doing very well, lucid and active, other than being in pain from the surgery.

Christmas Day was another story. Grandma didn't recognize Aunt Trisha when she relieved Mom that morning. She needed a blood transfusion, but the surgeon said that was the case in 30% of cases and normal. They hoped the confusion would clear with the transfusion. No such luck.

On Monday morning, my parents woke me and said that they were leaving for the hospital immediately - Aunt Trisha had called and Grandma had taken a sharp turn for the worse. She suffered multiple massive heart attacks and slipped into a coma. By noon, Mom called to say that we needed to come to the hospital. She had 20% heart function and the doctor's had given her a 15% chance of making it through the night. Kellie and I packed up things for a lengthy hospital visit and joined our family in the city. One of her lungs collapsed while we were en route.

Mom and Aunt Trisha finally signed a DNR, which I felt was the right thing to do. After that, we all took turns rotating in an out. The nurses were very kind and let us ignore the visiting hours and the 2 person rule since neither my Mom or Aunt had any intention of leaving her side. The rest of us took turns reading Grandma the Bible (I had grabbed her husband's preaching Bible before I left the house), especially passages of joy and strength, holding her hand, telling our very sweet nurse stories about Grandma and camping out in the waiting room. My Dad can't handle hospitals and became the waiting room base commander. My great-aunt (my grandma's only living sibling) and her husband brought over good because in the South, we mourn through food. All 4 of their children (and their families) were in for the holidays, which hasn't happened since they all reached adulthood. They all went in to see "Aunt Claudia".

My Uncle Randy, Grandma's oldest son, as well as his wife and daughter hopped in the car and began driving from California. They gave their blessing to do what needed to be done, even if they didn't make it in time to say goodbye. My uncle is a firefighter and actually knows more about the medical side than anyone else in the family. He doesn't want her to suffer.

At this point they've weaned her off the epinephrine and it's a matter of time. Neither my mother or aunt will leave her side until it happens, despite each encouraging the other to get some rest. Kellie and Brandon have taken the baby home to rest and will be back with breakfast in a few hours unless we call them with news before then. Randy, Oksana and Liza will be here around 1 pm. Maybe she'll hold on long enough to say goodbye to her son. But even if she doesn't, she'll go knowing she was loved and that she made a difference in the lives of all those she knew.

It's the rest of the family I'm worried about. We have been lulled into a comfortable false belief that Grandma will live forever. She has outlived her own mother by over 10 years, as well as all but one of her siblings and one of her husband's siblings (and that's saying something - there were 18 of them in all!). But now we've been sharply forced into reality, into the world where, no matter how kind the person, time will eventually win. Death is part of life and you can't cover your eyes and say "I disbelieve". You can mourn the loss of their presence in your life, but to mourn the death of a woman who has had a long, full, joyful life and would remain in pain should she wake up is spiteful and selfish.

Grandma has always been a friend to everyone. I expect, in return, Death will be a friend to her and take her peacefully and without fight.

One final down...

First final, and the most difficult, is done. I did fine, though I made some small mistakes that irritate me because I know better (the definition of a rational number is m/n, hello!), but it's over. I'll probably pull a B in the class and call it good. Takes out my chance of Dean's List this semester, but senioritis is strong enough that I just don't care.

Thursday is my other final. I'm not worried - I'll review on Wednesday night and it'll go fine. I do well in that class even when I don't study. Abnormal Human Behavior...fun stuff!

However between now and then I have two papers to write. I'm irritable about both of them, so I'm procrastinating (which is the norm for me) but I always turn them in on time.

But then...10 days off before the winter session starts!

Baby Wright

This beautiful child is the most recent addition to our family. He doesn't have a name yet (they're working on it), but he and his mama are doing great. He's 7lb 5oz and 21 inches long. He totally looks like an alien, but Kellie assured me he will get cuter. ;)  I asked her to tell him not to grow until I get there so I can hold this tiny little bundle of adorable. And of course, this picture made me recall one of the best quotes from the West Wing:


"I didn't realize babies come with hats. You guys crack me up. You don't have jobs. You can't walk or speak the language. You don't have a dollar in your pockets but you got yourselves a hat so everything's fine."


That's my nephew. He doesn't have a name, but he has a hat. So everything is fine. 


Update: His name is Dalton Glenn Wright. Fabulous.

Emily Post's Etiquette

I would very much like to own a copy of every edition of Emily Post's Etiquette. The 18th just became available (it's on my Amazon wishlist should anyone be inclined) and I own the 17th already. I'm working up a list of all the editions and starting the process of tracking them down. One edition (from the early 50's) was available for sale (for $1!) at my school's library, so I have that one. It's been fun to read through.

Below is a list of all the editions and their status in my collection. "ebay" means they've been bid on in ebay and are pending. "amazon" means they're on my wishlist on Amazon.com. I'll update it as I get information and as my collection grows. The thing I like about this collection is that it has a very finite amount of items, though I know that 1922 edition is going to be a bear. Information directing me towards any of the missing ones is greatly appreciated on my quest! The goal is actual copies, not reprints or digital and, eventually, first printings.

• 1st Edition (1922) 
• 2nd Edition (1927)
• 3rd Edition (1931)
• 4th Edition (1934) - own (my grandmother's copy, which I'll get sometime in the future)
• 5th Edition (1937)
• 6th Edition (1940)
• 7th Edition (1942) - own (5th printing)
• 8th Edition (1945) - own (2nd printing)
• 9th Edition (1950) - own (84th printing)
• 10th Edition (1955) - own (89th printing)
• 11th Edition  (1965) - own (98th printing)
• 12th Edition (1975) - own (4th printing)
• 13th Edition
• 14th Edition (1984) - amazon
• 15th Edition (1992) - own (8th printing)
• 16th Edition (1997) - own (1st printing)
• 17th Edition (2004) - own (4th printing)
• 18th Edition (2011) - own

I Used to be Fat...and other absurdities

There are some reality TV shows I have a hard time clicking past. Like a car crash, I'm drawn to them. Hoarders is one of those shows...it makes me want to clean. My need for order kicks in and I can't understand how people live like that.

Shows about people losing weight are another. I cheer for them, especially the ones about teenagers. I get angry at the slackers and self destructive behaviors. But more than anything, I've been amazed by some of the families. Some of them are as hard on the kids as their trainers, really pushing them to succeed and making large changes in the family lifestyle as well. I want to hug those parents. But some of them are so negative. They eat fast food in front of their kids who are trying desperately to change their lives. Discouraging their kids by disparaging their progress. Those parents I want to slap. Kids are a product of their environment. We have an obesity epidemic in our country among kids because they learn to be lazy and eat poorly from their parents. Those kids become adults who have kids and perpetuate the cycle.

My best friend and I have often talked about our wildly different upbringing and how that has effected our adult lives. I learned from an early age to regard fruits and vegetables as snacks. We had salad at every dinner and my sister and I ate it liberally. Even when there were cookies in the house, mom made them and they were out of site - never snacks, only dessert. More often, though, dessert was strawberries or some such. My friend, however, grew up making her own food decisions usually since her mom was in school at night, trying to make a better life for them. When her mom did cook, she made a lot of pasta and not much in the vegetable arena. She has fought being heavy her entire life and finally took matters into her own hands and lost 70 lbs by overhauling her eating habits. 

Parents have a responsibility to their children to teach them how to be healthy. The fact that we just ignore that as a society is disheartening. Letting children do other things that will kill them would be a huge problem, but we can't tell parents to fix their children's eating habits. Absurd.

Getting Poked

Today I went to the doctor and had my rheumo followup. I like my rheumotologist. In addition to having a great bedside manner and being pleasant to talk to, he's very attractive. If I wasn't off the market...

Anyway! So we talked and decided to double my dosage of Cymbalta since I'm currently on a half dosage. We looked at some of my old films and he showed me the really cool films of my veins being illuminated. He went and got the attending, who is a small man that I don't particularly like, mostly because his suits don't fit him correctly and he has a weak handshake. He poked at me (they do that a lot in rheumotology) and then felt my glands. He wants me to go for a thyroid ultrasound. He said it's only a 50/50 shot that he's correct (isn't there always) but that he wants to check for Hashimoto's. Once he left, I grilled my doc about it and promised I don't get crazy about diseases I haven't been diagnosed with yet. He and I had a giggle over the fact that there's a category under the ultrasound menu called "Small Parts" and then again when we found thyroid under it.

I might be the only person in the world hoping to have an autoimmune disease. It would mean one pill a day instead of 3 and seems to cover a lot of symptoms. So we'll see what the ultrasound says.

A Girl's Life

A few weeks ago, a girl in the Honors College came to me and asked for advice. I didn't really know her, but I stepped outside with her. She asked me if I knew anything about abortions. Oye.

So we sat outside and I let her tell me what was going on. She was several months along and had originally wanted to keep the baby, but now she wasn't sure. So I explained her options (keeping it, abortion, adoption) and talked her through the pros and cons to all of them. She is certain her religious Asian parents wouldn't let her stay in the house if they knew she was pregnant. I stressed to her that, whatever decision she made, she should make it for her since she would have to live with it for the rest of her life. She expressed her concern with God's opinion of her actions, which I told her was between her and God...and no one else.

She decided to get an abortion. Because she was so far along, she needed the two day procedure. I offered the house if she couldn't go home, but she was alright. We talked after it was all done and she said she felt okay...she expected to be in more pain and was disquieted, but she was doing better than she thought she would. She said her boyfriend had been with her and took her home since he had to get back to him mom. She was drinking hot chocolate and watching a movie. She thanked me for my impartiality and for being so calm and helpful and said she'd take me out for coffee. Sweet girl.

Today I get a call and a text from her in a panic. Her "boyfriend" had been openly cheating on her. Once they did her followup appointment to make sure she was okay, he dumped her...the same day. He hasn't paid for half of the procedure like he said he would and is being openly an asshole. She's angry and very depressed. She also wants revenge. I told her to put revenge aside for a moment and to go to the student counseling center. I told her not to leave until she had an appointment with a counselor or therapist. I reminded her that her first priority had to be getting herself okay and she could deal with him later.

This girl breaks my heart on so many levels. She couldn't talk to her family, she is terrified that God hates her or will punish her, that she won't be able to have kids later on, that she might ruin her life and now she's dealing with an asshole of a boyfriend of five years. She's depressed and confused and lacks a support network to really help her. I hope she follows through with the counseling. This might go down as one of the most difficult times in her life, but it just might give her an opportunity to find her own strength.

At least I hope so.

Veteran's Day

Today is Veteran's Day. It's my holiday. My own holiday.

I texted a bunch of my friends who were veterans. The really close ones. They understand.

And now, I'm having a glass of wine and thinking about the ones who aren't here. Veteran's Day is for the living. It's the holiday where we think about those who are still with us. But still, I think about those who should be here, who should be among the living, but never got to be veterans. Who never got to celebrate this holiday as their own. It was never theirs.

A School Development

After all that work, I dropped Bio.

It was a horrible decision to have to make. I love the class. I love the lecture and I love that we're getting into the vertebrate physiology that I enjoy so much. But I'm behind and the stress of keeping up with that class is starting to hurt my other classes. I love science, but I can't risk my major and minor for it.

So I spoke to the professor. He said he understood. He said that sometimes you can't do everything you want to do when you want to do it. He also pointed out that graduate work in psychology can include more science, so I might get a chance to get back into a lab before it's all done. He was very comforting.

I filled out the forms to drop the class, change my major from a BS to a BA and declare my minor. While I'm very sad to have to do it, I already feel better. I feel more relaxed...I know I made the right decision. The biggest thing I had to conquer to do it was my pride. I like the feeling of being in science, of being able to do it. I will admit that I like that I can do it and there are others who can't. In psych, I so often look at my classmates and bemoan that they will get the same degree as me. I know I'm smarter and I want the world to know too. That BS in front of my degree makes me feel like the world knows. 

Well...now the math minor will have to be the way for the world to know. How many psychologists can say they conquered calculus and know the formula for the Fibonacci sequence?

Teaching vs. Training

Recently, I've had several conversations about teaching methods. As a tutor in the Writing Center (WC), we are constantly encouraged to use non-directive methods, more commonly known as the Socratic Method. The goal is to develop the writing and critical thinking skills of the writer by allowing them to discover the answers independently. We all vary at our comfort and skill level with this method and I am most definitely on the directive side of things. But I've been in school the majority of my life, so I should be more comfortable with the Socratic method, given it's the primary tool for education.

Right?

Well....maybe. Lower education is a very strong mix of the two..we let children do a lot of self discovery as they develop skills and independence, but we also directly teach a great deal. And as we move up in education, in class work becomes more directive and out of class work less directive. There's not a lot of sitting in class, considering, debating. I would argue that I got some more of that than other students based on classes - AP worked hard to develop those critical thinking skills. But otherwise...

And then the military happened. Military education, at least at the basic levels, is all directive. Purely directive. The first lesson we learned in basic training was how to stack our bags i.e. how to follow orders. I have it on video, but the basic concept is that the standard is presented, the standard is demonstrated, you are given a chance to meet the standard. If you fail to meet the standard, corrective training is issued (usually pushups at this point in our military lives). Repeat process. And because this is conducted as a group, you very quickly learn to help each other meet the standard, since everyone pushes if one person fails.

This particular method is used in all aspects of military life. The type of corrective training becomes more helpful as you're learning actual tasks (such as tutoring or extra task training), but for the most part, this method is a standard way to impart knowledge. I use it all the time with people - I tell them what I expect, I show them how to meet my expectations and then I leave them to do it. And it is, in fact, very effective.

But what I have realized is that this is not teaching. It's training.

I am a great trainer. I will train you to do a skill or task and you will know how to do it and how to do it well. I trained students when I was a teacher to function in my class, understand my expectations and what to do if they didn't think they'd meet those. I trained them in classroom behavior, test taking procedures and resource allocation (i.e. how to look stuff up for themselves). But I don't know if I actually taught them much. There was some teaching. I stood in front of them and taught them words. But I don't think that's the primary thing those students took away from the class.

When I look at the difference between the two words in the dictionary, teach is a catch all for showing someone how to do something. Train is nearly entirely task oriented (job training, etc). But I think the difference is more than that. Teaching has to do with concepts, training with skill acquisition. They are related, most certainly, but they are not the same.

I am a trainer. I am not a very skilled teacher. And I'm okay with that.

I lack motivation.

I need to finish the lab report that's due today. I keep staring at it and I just don't want to write it. I also have a paper I need to finish up and email to the professor. That particular piece will effect my registration status, so it's really vital.

The list keeps going. Between the house, school, personal projects...I feel like I'm running behind constantly. I just want to be done. I want to graduate and move and not look back - put this part of my life behind me. A break before grad school is sounding even more awesome right now. I'm just worn out.

I could take a medical drop from my Bio class. I don't think the professor would give me any issues with that. But I had to fight to get into it and my pride won't let me. Also, it would change my degree from a BS to a BA. I wouldn't have to take a science next semester and it'd make what it already going to be a busy semester much easier. But again...my pride. I know I'm smart enough to do it. I just lack the energy and the focus. And, quite honestly, the motivation.

So tired.

Why do we go to school?

When I was fighting to get into my Bio class, the professor asked me why I was taking science. He pointed out that every semester I took science, my GPA went down (my Psych GPA is a 4.0). And I can get the BA in Psych without it. I told him that I wasn't in school for my GPA, I was in school to learn about things that interested me. And science interested me. Besides, when is the next time in my life I'm going to get access to a proper science lab? Most likely never.

I have repeated this concept to my classmates who are astounded that I am taking a class that most people are failing simply because I enjoy science, even though I'm not particularly good at it. I remember being their age and believing that the purpose of school was to do well (by whatever definition of "well" you ascribe to). But I waited for my education, so I think I get the privilege of learning for the sake of learning. I didn't do great on my lab practical today, but I learned a lot while taking it, including a lot about what I don't know. Every lecture class leaves me with more questions. If I had all the time in the world, I'd be an astounding biologist because the subject fascinates me on a really deep level and I'm constantly looking for ways to expand my knowledge. But I don't have all the time in the world, so I'm happy with a passing grade and a continued fascination. It brings down my GPA, but GPAs are arbitrary numbers. Knowledge may not be quantifiable, but it's so much more fulfilling.

On Sunday evening, Kyle and I were planning to go out to dinner. He had made reservations at Le Soir, which I had never been to. He was ready first (shocker) and took care of Indy while I was getting ready. I called him in to look at how I was dressed - I was feeling funny about the dress because I hadn't worn it much and wasn't sure I liked how it was styled. He seemed to agree...said something was missing. He had me turn around, then when I turned back he got on one knee and pulled out a ring box.

"Are you sure you want to marry me?"

We've asked each other this question repeatedly for the last few months, mostly joking, often in response to one of us getting snippy with the other. This was the best time. Thankfully, I didn't mess up my eye makeup.

The ring in the box is a beautiful art deco piece. What seals it for me - it was his great-grandmothers. She was married in 1924, the year my grandmother was married. Her daughter, Kyle's maternal grandmother, was born two years later. Despite the lady having very tiny hands, her 4.5 sized ring fits my left hand perfectly.

We had a lovely dinner at the restaurant, which is intimate and lovely. The food and wine were delicious, the atmosphere was comfortable and the service was divine. We left phones in the car and specifically waited until dinner was over before I sent the picture of the ring on my hand to my mom, sister, aunt and his mother. Phone calls ensued. Changed Facebook status led to more phone calls and text messages, as well as a flurry of FB congrats and emails.

So basically...I'm engaged!

Someday, a Chanel suit

There are a few items that I truly want to own in my life.

An Hermes bag of my design (leather, etc)
A fabulous sapphire ring
A Chanel suit

These aren't things I need now. They are things that will come one day, marks of a comfortable adulthood and successful life. And that last one...

Chanel has been making stunning suits since Coco herself. The above is an excellent example of a vintage suit. Clean lines, elegant simplicity, the very essence of a lady. And this season, they've done it again.

Karl Lagerfeld's line this year is all about pearls and, like Coco herself, beautiful, clean lines that are actually wearable. I could actually wear that, unlike some of the things that have walked down the runway this season. I'd love to wear that. And someday, I will.

Join the Circus?

Sometimes, I get the urge to run away. Just for a day or so, somewhere where no one knows me. Go out to eat, lie on a beach, go out dancing - really anything. Just somewhere new, somewhere unknown or different. The urge strikes and there's not much I can do about it. But it comes on strong a few times a year. I don't think it indicates anything other than a restlessness that I've always had. Maybe one day when I'm in a position to travel more that will abate. But in the meantime, it's there, ready to strike when I least expect it. I've actually done it a few times, mostly when I was in language school and didn't have anyone to check in with until formation on Monday morning. I could go wherever I wanted and just disappear for a couple of days. Oh, the days before cell phones! Now I'm constantly reachable and people worry when they don't get a response. I suppose that complaining about having meaningful connections with people that means that they are concerned about my well being is silly and in truth, that's not what I'm talking about. It's mostly just a desire for anonymity and new experience, and the freedom that comes with it.

New Drugs, New Outlook

On Saturday I started some new medication that, we hoped, would help with the sleepiness from the muscle relaxers as well as the continuing fibro pain. The biggest concern was nausea, which is a problem I've had with medications in the past. Thankfully, after a couple of days, the nausea has passed. And for the first time this semester, I feel like I have it together and things aren't completely out of control. Maybe it's the result of feeling physically better or maybe it's purely mental. But either way, I'm feeling like this semester won't entirely overwhelm me for the first time. And I'm really happy about that.

Mandatory Fun

Today was mandatory fun with the Honors College. Thankfully, parts of it were actually fun. We traveled into the city in vans that had no air conditioning, which was misery. The traffic was a mess so we got out and walked, which at least had air. We had lunch at the Mars Restaurant, which is cheesy and silly but was a lot of fun. The food was pre-ordered and the pasta I got was average. The worst part was that, as we're walking, we're instructed to keep in groups of four. How old are we?

I got a drink with lunch (the Dean assured me that since it was off campus and I was legal, it was fine) and boy did I need it. The director of the Honors College makes me want to scream. She's unorganized and I don't think she's as smart as she thinks her PhD makes her. Blissfully, we were released to get to the show at our leisure. Thank god.

One of my classmates, Dav, and I walked over to the theater. We saw the Lion King, which was amazing. I hadn't seen it and this was free, so it was well worth dealing with being treated like a child. The man playing Scar was stellar and the entire production was fantastic. I dozed on the return trip listening to Michael Jackson, so despite sweating the entire way, it was a decent return.

A Professor Above Others

There's a professor at my school of whom I am fond. She's brilliant in her field (she's a social psychologist who has been treating first responders from 9/11 for the last decade) and loves to teach (she's been a professor at my school for 36 years). She did my independent study over the summer and allowed me to do another one this semester on trauma since the school isn't currently offering any classes. She then changed our senior seminar to incorporate aspects of trauma...and she did that for me. She asked me to TA for her as well.

Today, this professor sat me down and told me she had breast cancer. Prognosis is good - it's stage 1. No other students know and only 2 faculty. She is taking a month of medical leave at some point for radiation and surgery and wants me to keep the class moving along at the correct pace while she's gone. 


A few hours ago, she sent an email thanking me for being available to her and reminding me to slow down so I won't get sick and burn out. With everything she's dealing with today, she took the time out to do that.


I am honored by this woman's trust and attention. In class, she puts a lot of effort into truly preparing students for the aspects of this field they're interested in (social work, clinical, etc) and will help students out. She knows this is not a challenging curriculum for me and works to find other ways to make this engaging. There are teachers you never forget - this is one of them.

Such a nice day

Had lovely lunch today with Angel. It was so beautiful that we had our salads outside. She then took me shopping where we found some beautiful things for me and a few for Kyle. We then got an iced coffee from Starbucks. It was, in short, a wonderful afternoon.

Turkey is in the oven for dinner tonight. There will be dressing (at Kyle's request) and green beans - a mini Thanksgiving! I'm going to try to get the house cleaned up tonight so that I can spend all of tomorrow at the DMV if necessary. But, at the end of it, I should have Virginia plates and it will be one less thing to do when I move down.

Mom and Dad will get tomorrow night late and be here for the weekend. Sadly, Mom lost her dog Sasha, who they believe was eaten by a coyote. Heartbreaking. We're all sad but hopefully our dogs will do their part to cheer her up. We're looking forward to a fun weekend with them and introducing them to Va Beach and the family here. Very excited!

But is it censorship?

I was wandering through Barnes and Noble today, looking for a book to read in the hurricane. As often happens, I wandered into the pregnancy section. And as it nearly always the case, there was one practical book on adoption, one narrative from an adopted person now grown and nothing, not a single book on surrogacy. 500 versions of the Bible and nothing on surrogacy. One book on adoption.

It's frustrating. Not everyone is going to be a parent in the traditional way. So why not offer books that cover a variety of options? I'm not saying to cut down on the pregnancy books, they're needed and sell like crazy. But why not offer more on other options? There are 14,000 options about adoption and 450 on surrogacy on Amazon. The books are out there. Why isn't anyone selling them?

Bring it, Irene.

It's my first hurricane! I've been in tornadoes, earthquakes, monsoons and blizzards, but never a hurricane. Very excited!

I'm in Va Beach, since Irene plans to visit New York on her East Coast tour and I'd rather be where the people have experience and I have people. Slightly depressing concept, but it's only 9 more months. School has canceled move in and the first day of class. Right now we're scheduled to have class on Tuesday, so I should be back in NY for that. Hopefully I won't be going home to surprises.

We have groceries, water, candles and batteries. We're smoking a chicken and a pork butt now and I'm going to make some chili. Tonight's dinner is all the leftovers that won't keep if we lose electricity. We've got wine and liquor, board games and books. We are, in a word, set.

What the Summer Taught Me

I have recently been coming to grips with the fact that I will not be able to function at the speed and productivity level that I am accustomed to. This isn't new or sudden, however I'm starting to accept it rather than fight it. Fighting it leads to exhaustion and more bad days, as well as constant frustration about not meeting goals and deadlines. This summer has been a lesson in acceptance and it's been a hard one. I'm still not all the way there and I hate every single minute of it. One of the things I have always prided myself on is my high productivity level and my ability to turn out very good work in very short time. I can still do that, just not at the rate I used to.

I have had to accept that I will probably never be able to return to a 60 hour work week. I will not be able to function for several days on a few hours of sleep and expect to get out mostly unscathed. That kind of behavior lands me in bed for 2 days. I won't be able to do a lot of the things the way I have done them and the way that I would prefer to do them.

This has not been an easy process and I'm still not sold. It hurts my feeling when people tell me I won't make a self-imposed deadline or laugh off my plans because they don't think my health will hold. Even though their attitudes are thoughtless, they are not necessarily wrong and it's very frustrating. I spent years covering my illnesses and finding ways to hide my bad days. I can't do that as easily anymore and it has changed my interactions with some people in a way that is humbling...and I hate it. It's hard not to resent the good days because they are so often followed by a much worse day. It breaks my heart as I change my plans for the future to accommodate an unreliable body and even worse to see the "I knew it" look from people who doubted my ability to make those plans happen in the first place.

Someday, I hope that I will not longer resent my body for failing me. I pray that I will no longer hate every time I have to say "I can't do that today" because I can't move my legs. Someday, I hope to accept the new order of my world and find the joy in it despite the loss of so much.

But that day is not here yet.

Olfactory Memories

Apparently, our olfactory memories, i.e. memories that are attached to our sense of smell, are strongest. While driving up to Richmond last night, I got hit with two different, but very potent memories.

First, when I went over the river, the scent of the river and a hot night reminded me of the summer that my youth group in California stayed on house boats on a river. The boats were grounded on one side and the terrain was desert. We spent the week on speedboats and other water sports. I have a bunch of pictures from the time and it was the time in my youth that I felt closest to my childhood crush (who I did later date for the summer after high school and who I miss terribly to this day).

Shortly after, I got the whiff of honeysuckle, which always makes me think of Oklahoma since we had it growing on every fence. While I'm not entirely nostalgic about it (not in small part because I go back often), there is something about the air in the summer there that is breathtaking. It's humid and hot and thick with the smell of honeysuckle and other flowers and mints. I got a sample of it last night and I missed it some.

Eiland Reunion

I've been looking through the Eiland family reunion pictures that people have been posting on the Facebook page from reunions years past. First, I'm really tiny in some of them. There's a lot of familiar faces, some of which have associated names, and a lot of people I don't know or remember. I was a child when we went, so I mostly ignored the non-important adults, which includes everyone other than my parts, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather. I got a few spare aunts in the memory bank, but mostly, there's a lot missing. And unlike a lot of my family, we lived far away so we didn't also see each other for Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc.

The reunion in is October every year and I haven't been in ages. I really want to go, though I'm not sure I'll be able to swing it. Looking at the pictures made me realize how much I've missed that family. I managed to reconnect with the cousins who are about my age via Facebook and I met up with Holly a few times while she was living in Va Beach, but it's not quite the same.

Mad at the World

It's one of those days. Nothing has gone right. I woke up and was having stomach problems that necessitate being near a bathroom. Makes going to work hard. So I got some work done at the house and tried to get other things done.

For example, I called Verizon. Last month was heinous for phone calls between the family remodel and other things, so my minutes went over. First time that's happened since I increased them. Turns out, if I had known I had a Friends and Family thing included in my plan, I wouldn't have had that problem. Yet when I asked them about it during my plan changeover (in September) they said I didn't. Angry.

I called the VA to ensure that my enrollment for Fall was submitted, which I assumed was submitted with summer. It hasn't been. Which means that my school has yet again failed to do what they need to do. I won't be getting paid September 1st and who knows how long it will take. Angry.

So I called my school to try to get that figured out. The woman who is supposed to be in charge of this didn't answer her phone (she never does). The Financial Aid office also doesn't answer their phone and you can't leave a message because their mailbox is full. Angry.

I still can't get into the Bio class I need to graduate on time. No one seems to be able to help me.

Basically, today has failed on every possible level.

Small Update

I'm back in Virginia. I was supposed to be here yesterday, but my back completely died on me. Not happy. I was able to move more today and made the drive and am now happily medicated so while my back still hurts, I no longer care. I'll be back to my externship tomorrow.

A Weekend

Had a really awesome weekend. Several people met up for dinner on Friday night at Peaches HotHouse, a great soul food restaurant in Brooklyn (that just looks weird, but it's totally true!). It was a lot of fun after all the construction work and craziness.

Speaking of the construction - the house look amazing. My dad is truly a master at what he does and my uncle is in his class. The relater was impressed and the house should be listed in a week. Even at earliest possible sale date, I would have until about the end of September to worry about my next living arrangement, but we're just going with it at this point.

Saturday we did P90X yoga (exhausting) and Karina and I went to the Brew for tea and sushi for dinner. Today I had guests to the house for dinner and cooked turkey with gravy, masked potatoes and green beans. For desert we did peaches with cream and tea. Yummy, if I do say so myself. We watched Seven Brides for Seven Brothers in my continuing efforts to build Chris' ever-expanding musical repertoire, since I converted him from "I hate musicals" to something quite the opposite.

So overall, it was a good weekend. Not as much got done as I had hoped, but I got everything done that I needed to so I feel good about it.

Logan's Run

When I was in high school, I had serious insomnia and spent my evenings watching Nick at Nite and the SciFy channel. At some point in there, I saw Logan's Run for the first time and fell in love it it. It was crucial in developing my love of the post-apocalyptic genre, such as The Hunger Games series or the Planet of the Apes movies (I've seen them all). But Logan's Run started it all.

The movie was filmed in the 70s and a lot of that is felt in the movie. People live in pure pleasure and free of responsibilities until they are killed on their 30th birthday in a ritual called Carousel, where they face the option of rebirth. Those who try to evade this fate are called Runners and tracked down by elite police (likened by star Michael York to the SS) called Sandmen. York plays a Sandman, Logan 5 who is put on a mission to find Sanctuary, which is supposedly where the 1000+ missing runners have gone. He pairs up with Jessica 6 (played by the lovely Jenny Agutter) in this pursuit and becomes a Runner himself.

It's a rather complicated movie, actually. Some of the things are illogical (the aging scheme is inconsistent and the world would have deteriorated far more by the 23rd century). However it's rather fascinating to watch and consider. On a production scale, they did a great job at creating a futuristic world, though the free love concepts of the 60s and 70s definitely make their way in. I am also caught off guard by the free expression of sexuality in the movie compared to the tame way we address it today. Jessica 6 is nearly naked the first time we see her and fully naked at least once in the film (she apparently was originally supposed to be naked more, but it was cut for timing ,though a "knicker reel" - her words - apparently circulated Hollywood). We get flashed repeatedly by women in very short skirts and loose tops. And in the Love Shop, people are naked and having sex, right on screen! It was a bit startling. I don't particularly object to it, I think we've gotten a bit prude as a society, but it was so unusual.

That aside, it is one of my favorite movies. If you haven't seen it, you should. It's available on Netflix (DVD only right now) and worth the rental. And Michael York remains one of the most attractive British actors ever. Even now, he's a stud.

Odd Perceptions

Isn't it interesting to see how other people see you? Especially when it's a surprise or someone you thought actually knew you. I've been painted with all sorts of brushes over the years and most of them don't phase me anymore. Amuse me, yes. I get giggling with some of merits and flaws attributed to my character that are off base.

The most recent one is interesting. I won't go into details, but basically perception of my interaction with another group is so very different from the way that I see myself within that group that it threw me for a loop. Particularly because, while I know the characterization was intended as a compliment, it's not a set of attributes that I usually see myself as having or, perhaps more importantly, am interested in having. It's not a role I have a desire to play and make no effort to fulfill that role, yet that is how I am perceived.

My initial reaction was to be insulted, however I've put that aside since it was intended to be insulting. Instead, I'm trying to examine my actions rather than my motives to see if I can figure out what led to this particular perception, which I know will lead to frustration on my part in the future, as well as how to change it.

Kind of threw me off in the process, though.

The Hunger Games, Catching Fire and Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

I read all three of these books from Monday afternoon to Tuesday evening, probably about 36 hours from start to finish. They are a young adult trilogy and read very easily without sounding like they're talking to teenagers.

Read them.

The story follows Katniss Everdeen, a young girl in a post apocalyptic US. The country has been divided into 12 districts, each which provides a different product or service to the Capital city (coal, lumber, fishing, etc). 75 years prior to the first book, the districts rose up against the Capital and, as punishment and a reminder of what happens when you revolt, each district must provide one boy and one girl, called tributes, annually to the Hunger Games. The 24 kids, from 12 - 18, must fight to the death in a manufactured arena for the entertainment of the Capital, and horror of the districts. The winner will live a life of luxury and ease.

These books are fantastic. They do a beautiful job at poking around in the psyche of both developing individuals living in this environment and adults who are forced to cope with what their government does to their children, as well as the spirit of subjugation and rebellion. It also manages to be a coming-of-age story that isn't overdone. The writing is quick and rich enough to paint this world that in so many ways feels like ours (poor coal mining communities in Appalachia are not new) but is so different (killing kids for sport).

I really suggest reading these books all together. If you read the first one, you'll want to read the second one and having to wait to get it is torture. Pick up all three (or borrow them), read them and then pass them along to someone else who hasn't read them. Then go see the movies when they start releasing in March 2012.

Yup, I'm a convert.

Another location

I'm back in New York this week and next doing slave labor for my father on the house. Today, I started recovering my room since the ENTIRE house is covered in sawdust. BUT - the hardwood floors look amazing and it only took one coat of paint to put my walls back in order in the bedroom. I can now clean it and call it done.

Spent about 3 hours at the VA today. Rheumo followup and they always run late, though today was a little later than usual. Thankfully, my doctor is very kind (and cute) and came out to tell me that he was running late and offered me the option of rescheduling. I waited. We had a lovely chat and he poked my muscles (owie) and joints. The determination was a medicine change once I'm back for good since he'll need to monitor the change. I'm suddenly excited to be back full time. The head rheumo agreed (sidenote: he's totally one of those people who just sits with me wrong) and we're good to go....in August.

Got my nails done, so I feel better. It's amazing the difference a pedicure makes. My toes are orange and my fingers are an ever practical light pink. Nice summer combo.

I miss my dog, who is hanging out in VA while we tear up floors and use loud things that would make him cranky. It's been raining since a freak storm rolled in yesterday, though we haven't had awesome thunder and lightning today. Hanging out with my dad and step-uncle has been fun, especially since I haven't seen the latter in probably 20 years. I love having a large family!

People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad. ~Marcel Proust

My morning started with a phone call. My friend, Harley Herrin, died last nigh. He would have been 32 on Saturday.

I keep trying to put feelings into words and can't. I have had many phone calls, texts and IMs today about this. People checking if I knew, others looking for someone to talk to. I am happy to be that for them if they need it. But I can't for the life of me process this for myself.

Harley has been troubled the last few years. His life has tossed him a bunch of curves that no one could have anticipated and he didn't always have time to swerve. At least now it's all straight roads.

Goodbye, Harley. Your bear hugs will be missed. Your spirit can't be - it's part of us all now, making us each more beautiful for it.

In other news...

It was actually a rather productive day. I got up and went in to school (I'm interning at the Faison School in Richmond) and spent 6 hours working on my internship project, which is organizing the assessment room into a manageable system. It's like candy for me - I love to organize. Last week I cataloged what was there, now I'm comparing that to the assessments and determining what is still needed, then I'll organize the items so they can be more easily accessed by the teachers doing the assessments. I'm in heaven.

I'm enjoying the limited interaction I have with the kids. I think if it was more I'd dislike it, but I go spend a few hours in one particular classroom every other day or so and enjoy somewhat limited interaction.

Also today, I was invited to the walking group at the school, so today we walked 2.5 miles in about 40 minutes. That's a good pace and there were a lot of hills. I had a great time and I felt good having done it. I'm planning to start P90X in the fall when I'm on a regular schedule again, but in the meantime I'd like to just maintain (or even lose a little...that would be nice). My day is pretty sedentary, so any chance to be active is great.

Blowing Up Duckies

I have a dear friend who says that I like to put things in order, blow them up, and then put them in order again. She calls it blowing up duckies. I can point to instances of exactly that many times in my life. Very rarely do I get upset about the consequences of such explosions, since I know I do them and I am usually very cognizant of what's happening. And today...

KABOOOOM!

Nothing serious, I assure you. Right now, I'm sitting back and watching with a giggle.

Wedding Weekend

This weekend, friends of ours got married. The wedding was supposed to be outside and the setup was really lovely. Everything was running on schedule...

...until 6pm when the sky opened.

The wedding was subsequently moved inside, as was the reception, and it all worked out. The food was good, the drinks were aplenty and the party continued until all hours off the morning, well after the bride and groom had left. I had the pleasure of meeting the groom's family, who were lovely. They invited me to come visit since they're not far from Dallas and I fly through there on the way to OK, so we might be able to do that.

All in all, it was a fun, if very busy weekend. The wedding was about exactly what it should have been - the couple joining their lives together. There wasn't any drama and everyone was on best behavior. A good weekend and a lot of fun.

School and Vacation

Happy news to report - I got an A in everything except Calculus, which I'm not surprised about. But I passed Calc 2 and sine I don't need to take Calc 3, I 'm not overly worried. Huzzah!

I had a bit of a scare when I looked at my grades and saw my Incomplete from last semester was an F. That was 2 out of the 3 papers I had to write last week. I logically assured myself that all Incompletes are changed to an F once the evaluation period is over and that Dr. G just hadn't gotten my grades in yet, but I emailed her anyway. I then proceeded to wake up at 3 in the morning having nightmares about my life falling apart because of an F. Thankfully, she emailed me the next day and assured me it was just the grade change being slow and that I had an A. Whew! She also complimented my writing, which made me happy.

So now I'm in Florida for the weekend enjoying the hospitality of two of our favorite people. We went to a nice dinner last night and there was definitely a moment of "It's so nice to be surrounded by grownups!" I wish they lived closer, but I'm doomed to like people who don't live near me.

Things are good. My externship begins after the holiday and I'm looking forward to starting (and completing) that. There will be two papers in the process, but one is due August 1st and the other not until Fall starts. I've got a house remodel and a move-in/decorate process to handle, but otherwise it will be a low key summer.

And I couldn't be happier.

And I'm Done!

I'm exhausted, wiped out and nearly delirious with a lack of sleep. But school is officially done for the semester! In the last week I have taken 2 tests (one of which I killed, thank you) and written about 40 pages of researched material. I'm shocked I can actually form sentences right now. Though you should see my typos pre-editing.

Tonight I'm going to pack (ever tried to pack for a month?) and get the house as tidy as possible since the house will have an inhabitant. Then an early bedtime (so needed) and off in the morning for a lovely month away.

Random Compliments

I was at Walgreen's buying spumante to get me through the evening, which is going to be long and exhausting. Sometimes, you need something sweet and bubbly. Anyway, the cashier had to see my ID because they card everyone, and she commented that I don't look my age. I thanked her and joked a little about the preventative cost of wrinkle creams, and moved on with my evening. A few weeks ago a man approached me in the grocery store and told me I was beautiful, before shyly returning to his shopping without another word.

Compliments are awesome. Compliments from a stranger are doubly awesome. They don't stand to gain anything out of it. My boyfriend is very good about the compliments and I know they're utterly sincere. He does them very well (one of his favorites is to call me a rocket scientist, which is the best because being pretty is fine, but knowing he thinks I'm brilliant is the best). But they are part of the fabric of our relationship - reminding each other that we think the other is smart/funny/attractive etc is just good relationship habits.

Strangers don't have that. I didn't compliment her and thus she was returning it. Nope, she just said it. I try really hard to give compliments to people when I believe them. I tell women I don't know when I like their hair/shoes/bag all the time. As a gender, we've been told that it's normal to look at every other woman as competition. I don't believe that and have been on the receiving end of such treatment and can tell you that it's no fun. But as nice as a compliment from a man is, a compliment from another woman will make your whole day better. Add a spring in your step. If women could stop looking at each other as competition, imagine how much more civil a world we would live in. Then we could turn out competitive sights where they belong - to men, who still make 20 cents on the dollar more than we do.

Random compliments to strangers today => pay raises in the future.

How can dogs tell when we're sad?

The question came up while I was watching last night's Glee, during which I cried. It was sad!

Anyway, Indy got very involved in the tears. He nuzzled me. He licked the tears. He sat in my lap. He curled up in the smallest space next to me possible and put his head on my lap. All puppy talk for "Mama don't cry!"

So how do dogs know that we're sad? They don't cry, so it can't be that they recognize tears as sadness from their own experience. Research seems sparse, but anecdotal evidence is clear...dogs can feel your emotions. Indy definitely knows when I'm sad or angry (especially if he's done whatever I'm angry about) and is a good mimic when I'm excited or happy. And there's no doubt he knows when I'm in pain - he'll even put his head on the parts that hurt. Scientists say that dogs can't sense secondary emotions (anything past rage/aggression or other basic emotions) because they don't have them themselves, but dog owners will tell you otherwise. Usually loudly.

Finals Week Meltdown

Usually I'm very good under pressure, especially in immediate emergency situations. I'm the person you want around when a window falls in on your employees (totally happened) - I am always calm, quick and decisive in those situations.

I'd kill for a falling window.

I am utterly swamped by paper writing and just had my first official finals week meltdown. I'm currently functioning on just shy of 2 hours of sleep. I sat down to work and realized the enormous amount of writing in front of me and the very small window of time I have to do it in. I lost it.

Thankfully, Kyle wasn't in court that moment and talked me off the figurative ledge. He assured me that I could get it done, that it will not keep my from grad school, that undergrad professors are not as detailed as I think they are, etc. He gave what I usually give others in this situation - clear direction and a calm, confident tone. I can't take his direction exactly because of variables he didn't know about, but I feel better. I'm going to jump in the shower and get dressed, then finish the stuff I absolutely have to do here, gather my materials and head to school. I can work from the library and prep for my last test (at 1), which is thankfully mostly studied for.

Cross your fingers. I might be able to finish this.

Visiting the Mosque

Today, my Golden Age of Islam class met at the Islamic Center of Long Island. Of course, I wore Eva Khurshid. Black dress, black tights, red shoes and red and black head scarf (women are asked to cover their hair in the Center and Mosque). We met with a lady from the community and discussed several issues, the first being Osama bin Laden. She spoke of how relieved the community was. In her words, he "hijacked [her] religion" and put a terrible face on their religion and culture.

One thing she said that really struck me was her saying how the US has changed in the 30 years she's been here. She said the country has become less tolerant and that she used to be able to say she was proud to be an American...that's not the case anymore. It was sad to hear.

Another thing we talked about as a group was the way people are celebrating the news of Osama bin Laden's death. We talked about the joyous celebrations happening around the country and how they mostly consisted of young people who grew up being taught that bin Laden was the worst kind of villain the way we were taught about Hitler. It was an interesting conversation.

The mosque itself is simple, bare and rather striking. The back section of the room can be sectioned off for those women who want to place themselves behind a screen (which is a point of contention in the community) while allowing those who want to see the imam to do so. Lessons were being held as some students were studying the Quran and other learning Arabic. There are no chairs, of course.

Overall it was a very enjoyable visit. The woman, whose name I fail to remember, spoke about how she is from India and it's part of the reason she doesn't cover her hair - it's not culturally common. She covers when she's in the mosque or community center but not in the world. She was really lovely and it was a great conversation.

Osama bin Laden is Dead

Kind of hard to imagine I'm typing those words. As I read the live blogs and the NY Times articles about it last night and heard the President's words, I could not believe that after 10 years, we can finally say those words.

Osama bin Laden is dead.

I felt relief, of course. Andrew Sullivan, who was live blogging the progression of events, included a pretty shocking video of the towers falling, to remind people of why this matters, of what this man did to our country. I watched the video and was moved by it all over again.

Osama bin Laden is dead.

I'm not one of those who is overjoyed by it. I would have preferred him to be tried and found guilty, not just for the attacked on September 11, but also for the attacks around the world that were orchestrated and carried out under his orders. I would like him to be tried by sharia law, the only law he and his followers recognize. Standing in a square in Saudi Arabia with an executioner at his side, while a judge asks his gather victims if they can forgive the man. If any of them can not, he is executed and buried in an unmarked grave, per Islamic tradition. That is how I wanted Osama bin Laden to die. But he didn't.

He was killed in a carefully planned and executed mission by the US. A beautifully handled mission that shows both dedicated and discretion (not our greatest pairing of skills as of late). The goal was to take him alive, but there was no way that was going to happen. A man like Osama bin Laden doesn't live in the culture he does and do the things he had done only to be taken away quietly. Of course he fought. Even if he had been captured, he would have tried to escape again and again. His followers might have chosen to kidnap Americans in retaliation or struck out in attempts to get him back.

So last night a breathed a sigh of relief and shed some tears for all those who have died in the process. And this morning, I woke up thinking...

Now what?

Nature Does Her Thing

"You've never seen it miss this house, and miss that house, and come after you!" - Jo from Twister

I've been watching the tornadoes hitting the south with an understanding of what they're going through though certainly not the scale. I remember very clearly dealing with tornadoes while living in Oklahoma, especially the one in 1999 that restructured OKC as we know it.

What's been interesting to me is listening to NPR's coverage here in NY. NY isn't used to tornadoes and had an apoplectic fit when a tiny little one hit Brooklyn. What seems to amaze people is the random nature of it. With hurricanes, an entire area is devastated. But tornadoes hit one house and skip another and it's entirely random. One house will have wind damage, another will be gone. The NY commentators seem especially devastated by this.

I've lived through earthquakes, tornadoes, monsoons and a blizzard. Of all of them, I think the uncertainty of the tornado is the hardest to grasp, though there's a sense of calm around it. You can literally sit outside and watch it coming, as long as you duck into an interior closet or cellar before it gets to you. You can't see an earthquake coming, but they're over quickly. Hurricanes are tracked and can be prepared for. Blizzards usually have indicators. And you kinda know when a tornado is coming - you can feel it in the air. The sky turns green and gets calm. There's not usually rain. Then a black funnel drops out the sky or comes along the horizon. If it doesn't drop on you, it's kinda awesome in the sheer power of it. But it's like watching through glass until it gets close. It's so hard to believe. But that's nature, in all her beautiful and destructive glory.

More School....Almost To Summer!

My third calculus test has been conquered. I feel pretty good about this one, though I have long learned that my personal feelings regarding a test has no bearing at all on the grade. I spoke with my professor afterwards and he outlined how to prepare for the final. I'm doing my best to take his advice.

Brain and Behavior continues to be interesting. We're going quickly through the last of the topics since we lost several days to snow and we're behind. Today we discussed learning and memory which are fascinating from the biological psychology aspect. Like a lot of this field, a great deal of our knowledge comes from those who've suffered brain damage and the results thereof. After the class, the professor and I briefly discussed the use of memory manipulation as treatment for PTSD and other trauma related issues. Really fascinating.

Which leads me to my current plans for my senior thesis (Honors College requirement). After discussing it with my senior seminar professor, I think I'm going to examine the difference between Type I and Type II PTSD. The former is trauma that happens to an individual and the latter is observed trauma. The professor works with 9/11 responders, most of whom have Type II PTSD, and is going to try to get me access to some of those sessions, with the permission of the patient, of course. She's rather well regarded in that area of psychology, so I'm excited to see how we work this out. The HC director approved the topic and the accompanying independent study. Very excited!

Back in the Saddle

On Wednesday, I returned to horseback riding. The winter was so nasty and the weather has been so uncertain until now that it hasn't been possible. But Wednesday was really nice (against the weather report of rain) and it was nice to be back at the barn.

I love the smell of the barn. Hay and horses is an amazing and intoxicating smell. While Christine (a teacher in the art department and fellow rider) and I waited for our lesson, I joked that the child in the ring we were watching posted better than I did. Christine commented that I canter better than any of them, which was very kind.

The new instructor is my speed, though I secretly enjoyed watched Alyssa and Sue (our club sponsor) argue. I was on Spanky who is the most beautiful shade of red ever. He's tall, but not to tall that I couldn't mount him on my own if he was saddled with a western saddle. The lack of pommel on the English saddle makes that impossible. The problem with Spanky is that he's a little lazy and a bit of a follower. I gave him a regular pep talk about how he should be his own horse and not listen to the gossip around the stables, after which he stopped following the others so much. Breakthrough!

We trotted for an hour, getting back into the rhythm of posting. The new instructor commented that I had a Western post and we worked on correcting it. She means that I sit far back in the saddle, making posting a lot more work for me and the horse. After I corrected it, there was definite improvement. At the end of the lesson, I dismounted and undid Spanky's saddle, then took him back to the barn. I removed his bridle and brushed him down, promising that at some point I would get him on a Western saddle and we'd go trail riding. He was a Western horse, so I think we had an understanding. I hung out at the barn for awhile and just enjoyed being there.

I like horses. They're not particularly fragile (getting one to move when you're dismounted and they don't want to is a full body effort) but as a species they're incredibly gentle. When we're waiting on the line and Spanky starts dancing because he wants to run, there's that moment where I just want to let him so we can see how fast we can go. But one of the differences between English and Western riding is control (as well as the use of reigns - didn't realize that so much until recently). So Spanky and I don't run, but I think we have a secret understanding that, in a different saddle, we would.

As a side note...2 days later, I'm still extremely sore. So out of shape...

For my fellow hat lovers...

White House Black Market (one of my favorite places to stimulate the economy) has a lovely collection of spring and summer hats.

Click here for the goodness.

Different Kinds of Pain

Different medical conditions have different types of pain associated with them. When you have more than one pain condition (as I do) then you get more than one kind of pain. This sucks for people who are dealing with me in pain because they have to work out which kind I'm in before they can help in any way.

My joints hurt because of the weather (arthritis) pain - This is pretty self explanatory. Thankfully, aspirin or any anti-inflammatory helps with this.

My uterus hates me (endometriosis) pain - For the ladies, imagine your cramps on steroids. Like a knife to the girly bits. Not much helps with this except percocet and heat.

My entire body hurts and is slightly numb (fibromyalgia) pain - This is actually really hard to describe, but I think I worked it out. You know when you leg goes numb and you rub it? That feeling, all over. It's miserable. Nothing much to do but stay in bed, stay warm and try to walk as little as possible since that is the definition of hell. My doc and I are working on the preventative level to try to keep things under control, but it's hit and miss.

All of these can happen at lesser levels and I usually experience at least one of them a day. Unfortunately, they can also happen in concert, which is highly annoying. The fibro one is especially annoying because my brain is fully active and aware, it's just my body that refuses to do what it's told.

The good news is that after a really bad day, the next day is usually better (can't be much worse) so today is a better day. And because I slept on and off all day yesterday, I am actually feeling rested. Huzzah!

Dollhouse

Since Karina hooked me up and showed me how to make Netflix happen on my TV. It's awesome. I have since stumbled on the series Dollhouse, by Joss Whedon, the genius behind Buffy and Firefly, among others. Dollhouse, like many a fascinating series, only lasted for 2 seasons. But the entire thing is available on Instant Queue from Netflix.

The premise is that an organization, referred to as the Dollhouse, is able to wipe the mind of people so that they can then be imprinted with other personalities at the request of high price clients. These personalities can range from negotiator to assassin to girlfriend or boyfriend for hire. Between jobs, or engagements, the "dolls" are in a childlike state. It's described as being reborn each time. They live in a utopia where they are constantly catered to.

The show focused on the growing awareness of Echo (Eliza Dushku), one of the Dolls, as well as the people around her and the FBI agent trying to crack the myth of the Dollhouse.

Psychologically, it's really fascinating. I'm just about done with the first season and I like it a lot. It helps that there are several fantastic actors on the show that I like. I recommend it for anyone who either has Netflix Instant Queue or can rent it.

Spring Cleaning

I am a cleaner. I love to clean because I like the process and the finished product. In the Spring, the desire to purge also comes into play. I've gone through my books and other entertainment to ensure that I don't have repeats or anything that's no longer of interest to me. I go through my clothes every season, so that I'm not so worried out.

However, in this house, I have more than my own things. My former roommate (2 ago) has just taken the last of his things from the house, though the garage still has quite a lot. And it's made me want to clean more of it out. The problem when it's not all yours is that you can't just be rid of it. Consensus and process has to be observed.

I've moved several times as an adult, and each time I've moved I've done a very strict inventory of my things. In a year, I'll move again and I'll be moving out of the house I've been in the longest and that is the largest, so I have the most stuff I've ever had. I'm starting to prepare now. For example, most of my photos which sit in boxes are getting digitally scanned and disposed of. They're just sitting in boxes anyway, but this way they're stored and I don't need space for them. Document which I no longer need originals of are getting similar treatment. Slowly yet surely, I'm clearing out things I no longer want or need, or don't want to take into the next iteration of my life. This should make it easier to move next summer. And it fulfills my need to clean and organize.

The Sad State of Progress

In addition to spending a great deal of time at Disneyland in my childhood, my family also visited Knotts' Berry Farm. I distinctly remember one such visit when my father and I went alone (I think my sister was still very small). Specifically, we rode the Soap Box Racers more than once. Dad used the ride to demonstrate how weight distribution can influence speed when going around corners. The lesson has never left me. Also, it helped that we won every race.

Tonight, while avoiding writing a research paper, I did a little research on the current rides and status of Knotts'. Most of the history I was already familiar with, but I was heartbroken to realize that the Soap Box Racers were removed in the late 90's and replaced with yet another roller coaster that is nearly identical to several others.

So sad. Completely heartbroken. When Disney replaced the traditional submarines with a Finding Nemo ride, at least the subs are still there - you can point to them and say what they once were. But the Soap Box Racers are just gone. This is what happens when something owned by a family for decades is moved into corporate hands. All the soul has been leaked out in the name of money, which is exactly why the Knotts family didn't sell to Disney. Makes me sad to see.

However, we shall never forget that Walter Knotts invented the term boysenberry to name and market the hybrids of his friend, Boysen. Knotts and his family ran a road side berry and jam stand way back at the beginning and our modern knowledge and use of boysenberries is the result of his developing and marketing. In the summer, Knotts' Berry Farm still does boysenberry pie eating contests.

Why can't I adsorb information on Seljuq Empire as easily?

The Evening Tea

Surprise surprise, I have more Calculus to do. It never ends.

To make my evening more enjoyable while doing trigonometric integrals, I made myself a nice tea. Isn't it pretty? The teapot is my new one while the milk and sugar are from my guest set (the one I use when I have a ton of people over because it holds a ton of tea). The cup and saucer are a beautiful china set I got when I toured Canada with the All State Choir my senior year of high school - it's marked with the British Columbia Tartan. Finally, the macaroons are from my birthday - they're such high quality that they're still good months later. They're so rich I've been eating them slowly. For the record, I got them from Isaac (along with a bottle of ice wine) and they come from the Macaron Cafe in NYC. Utterly decadent.

That said, back to Calculus!

Family Ties

I have a gigantic family. Part of this is because my parents took a lot of effort to make sure that we actually knew our family, so none of it gets lost. This, plus large birthrates in my grandparents' generation, has produced a large family that spreads across the nation, though manages to miss out on the north east.

When I was young, I got to see what I call the "southern family" about once a year at the family reunion, which was centered around my great-grandfather's (Pap-Pap) birthday. Considering the distance from California to Alabama, this was quite a journey and always a treat. I had three cousins in particular who were right around my age and with whom I spent those trips. When I think of that part of my family, those are the first people I think of.

During the course of life happening, we went less and less. Pap-Pap died, as old men do, and our driving need to go to spend time with him fell off. My time got busy in high school and I didn't go all the time. My parents worked and couldn't always take the time off. Years went by.

Faceboook turned out to be a beautiful thing for my connection with my southern family and I reacquainted with those special cousins through that. The girls both have children, which I remembered my mom telling me about (she's the keeper of information in our family) but whom I'd never seen. And by lucky happenstance, one of those cousins lives in Va Beach and I've had a chance to meet her husband and beautiful little girl. The other two live in Gainesville and I'm hoping to see them when we visit. It will have been about 15 years since I last saw them.

Tonight, my cousin and her little girl in Va Beach were hit by drunk driver. Of course, I heard this from my mother. My cousins are alright - the mom came out of her car fighting mad, like any mother would. What amazed me is my own reaction. My heart stopped while I was reading mom's note until I got to the line "they're both alright". Logically, if someone had really happened, my mom would have called, so I didn't have much to fear, but there was that moment.

I've seen them twice and before that it had been nearly 15 years. I guess some family ties never fade.

OH! And....

While I was down in Va Beach for Spring Break, I got to visit Williamsburg with Angel. I've never been and MUST go again, especially to do a run of historical Williamsburg. But we had lunch at the Old Chickahominy House, where the food is made fresh and mouth-watering delicious. It also had a really cute little store attached, which I always love.

For those who don't know Angel, she is a very generous woman. So in addition to taking me to Williamsburg and treating me to lunch, she got me two wonderful gifts. One is a teal blue wrap that I am wearing as we speak. The other is the most recent addition to my favorite thing to collect - teapots.

Isn't it fabulous? The picture isn't great because I don't have an actual camera yet, but my phone did an alright job. The flowers on the side are etched in a light green and the blue at the bottom is a rabbit. The pattern continues on the other side. I LOVE it! I think I'm going to try to find some blue or green teacups to go with it at some point.

Thank you, Angel!

The Strain of Today

So March can be summed up with the following: Flu, Midterms, Flu, Spring Break, SNOW??

Today, however, was a doozy. I have been in a panic since when I got home from break yesterday, my computer was doing a mean impression of a paperweight, but failing to do anything else...and I had a draft research paper due today. Not to mention a Calc Quiz due tomorrow. So that sets the tone for the day.

Got up early, made hair pretty (thanks, Aunt T, for all the advice!) and got out the door early enough to go to the cobbler to turn in leather boots from the winter that need some love. My heart broke to discover that my cobbler has gone out of business! I adored him and now I need to find another one. Very sad.

Work went well. I was booked the entire time I was there, which makes it go quickly, and one of the sessions was with a fellow Psych student who needed help with a lit review, so Jody (the director) assigned her to me specifically. I'm happy to be getting a good rep!

Checking in with the HC, I discovered that the bookstore messed up my book credit and told me the wrong amount at the beginning of the semester and thus I now owe them a ridiculous amount of money. I'm furious and the HC director is understanding of my fury. I'll go see them tomorrow to see what we can work out. FURIOUS.

However, a reprieve - In class I discovered that the draft was moved from today to next Monday. Happiness ensued. I can write it over the weekend and focus on my calc test that is coming up on Thursday. Oh happy day! I followed this with a wonderful discussion with my professor on a topic change (as well as discussing historical religious fiction such as The Red Tent and Mother of Believers) and she asked me to focus on a topic that she thinks I could shed a lot of light on even though it's not really covered in class. I'm thrilled.

A quick hustle off to Macy's to spend my gift card on the pair of shoes I've been coveting only to discover that the designers have gone off their heads this season and the toe box of the shoes doesn't cover the toe cleavage (tops of the toes). Now, I have previously railed against unnecessary toe cleavage in my livejournal. While I can accept it in casual shoes, such as flat, I find it rather horrid in heels, especially to the level that it was in this case. Nine West, Anne Klein...all of them! The shoes I really want, of course, are at White House Black Market, but I can't justify the expense. So I'm going to fume over this for awhile until I come to a solution.

Finally, to Best Buy in the hopes that the death of my Lappy is a a result of a faulty power source. They are ridiculously expensive, it turns out, but this entry is proof that the problem was indeed a power issue. I suppose I can be comforted to know that $80 is better than buying a new laptop.

Evidence of Spring

Walking to my car this afternoon, I heard the dulcet tones of geese doing their mating ritual.

Good heavens they're loud!

Our campus acts as a preserve as well as a campus, so for the second time in my life I share an area with animals who are highly irritating, if not kinda adorable in their innate biological demand to mate. Previously, I was stationed at Ft. Meade, along with a wetland preserve. Wetlands are beautiful...and loud. Especially in spring.

We had rain instead of snow. Twice now I've gotten a whiff of the wet and green newness that signals the earth awakening from its' sleep. It has me very excited. I can't garden since I won't be here to enjoy it, but I may plant in pots some.

I love spring. It's a time of rebirth. Winter kills off and wipes away the past and allows for new growth. Transition seasons are my favorite. As much as I enjoy the heat of summer and even the stark, cold beauty of winter, spring and autumn are the seasons that stir my heart. One of the few things I will miss about living in the northeast is the changing of the leaves. I am determined this year to take pictures. I'll bring them with me.

Victorian Manners Test

This is fun!

http://www.mccord-museum.qc.ca/en/keys/games/game_0/

I took it as the female and got a perfect score - I'll try it as the male when it's not 2:30 in the morning. Take it and see how you do!

A Good Day!

Finally!

The weather was beautiful so I turned off the heat and opened windows to give my house a chance to air out a little. I got some cleaning and laundry done, as well as caught up on the ironing that has been building up. Knitting made some headway and I read for class tomorrow. No calculus, but hopefully some will get done tomorrow night.

I made rosewater out of the beautiful bouquet that Kyle got me for Valentine's (except the one that I pressed). I used the method from Care2 and it was pretty easy. I didn't remove the extract at small intervals and the initial amount was really strong, so I let it go awhile longer and got a slightly diluted form which I prefer. I left the pot on the stove (which was off) and let it perfume the house after I was done. Huzzah to a really good astringent and making use of something that would have otherwise gone into the trash. The remaining petals will be put in the flowerbeds outside.

Also watched the Oscars tonight (though I was on a delay to begin with because I got caught up in a Criminal Minds marathon and couldn't stop halfway through, so I DVRd the Oscars and got to fast forward through the commercials for most of broadcast). I wanted Hailee Steinfeld to win for True Grit, but Melissa Leo was so cute on winning that I couldn't be too upset. I also wanted Jennifer Lawrence to win for Winter's Bone (if you haven't seen it, go rent or Netflix it - it's amazing), however I knew there was no one who was going to beat Natalie Portman. And rightly so - Black Swan was utterly haunting. I hoped when she was thanking her parents that they would be shown so I could see her mom*, but I was disappointed.

My favorite speech of the night was David Seidler, the writer behind The King's Speech. His speech was funny and eloquent and seemed natural, rather than some of the forced humor in some speeches. I really loved his voice and it was just touching.

*Side note here: When I worked at Equinox, I had the distinct privilege of meeting (and signing up) Natalie Portman's mother. She was a classy lady who never once mentioned her daughter's name (she told me her daughter launched a line of vegan shoes, which she totally had) and was truly one of the nicest strangers I had ever met. I will never forget how sweet she was to me for the handful of months that I knew her and as much as I loved Miss Portman already, meeting her mother made me love her even more.

Putting my sickness to work

Another day of pain and thus, meds. There are certain things I can't do on medication reliably, such as studying or calculus, so I'm hoping I can do those things tomorrow. But it was sunny today so I was determined to do something. Yesterday was completely lost to sleep and that half awake space I get into when the percocet kicks in.

So today, I got some laundry folded and got some more laundry done. My biggest accomplishments were making tomato sauce for the rest of the week (or a couple, depending on my meals) and making a loaf of Moroccan bread. I cut the recipe, which should make two loaves, just to do the one since it's my first time. It turned out really well and I had some of it when it was still hot with butter and honey. It was delicious. I will probably need to make another loaf this week at some point since it turned out well and it certainly beats store bought bread. It doesn't replace sandwich bread, but that's why I want to get a bread machine someday.

I have this dream of getting to a point where more of the food I eat is freshly made. Pasta is really easy to make. I make my own sauces anyway, but expanding on that selection is good. Bread too, now that I know how. I already avoid store bought cookies (except Oreos, which are crack, and even though I've made Oreos before, it's not the same), so it's just a matter of expanding that. Knowing what is in your food is great. The Moroccan bread is flour, water, oil, yeast, salt and sugar. That's it. And I can name all of those ingredients.

Also, I finished the second of what I think will be a set of three washcloths for my sister. I've cast on and started the third, so I might get that finished this week. I don't have any major projects until I learn to do socks over Spring Break, so I may just knit up a bunch of washcloths in the meantime.

WC Lessons

Last night I covered a WC shift for another tutor. It was interesting - I knew I had a writer coming in for help right at the beginning because I met him on Wednesday and he insisted on seeing me again. Turns out I was completely booked the entire night. I worked with a girl who was trying to write a personal statement for law school and a woman who really just needed someone to listen to her go over her response to a reading - she self edited as she read and I didn't actually have to do much. We worked out some confusion issues, but she really did most the work.

Thankfully, I'm finding patience I didn't expect to have. It's hard not to just give them the answer, which we're really not allowed to do since our primary goal is to encourage critical thinking. But I'm learning how to ask leading questions. It's frustrating since some of them are really terrible writers and they're in college - they should be at least basically literate. But I think my time there will be well spent and the other tutors are nice to talk to. Several of them are graduate or post-graduate students and one of them got her PhD last week.

I didn't have anything to do today expect for the SVA (Student Veteran's of America) State Director conference call (I'm the NY SD). Which is good because it's been a pain day. So lots of tea, time on the couch and watching TV (I got caught up on Royal Pains) and snacking. Oh and knitting. Knitting has finally gotten done now that it's been rescued from Kyle's house. I have some things to get done this weekend, but mostly I think I'm staying home. I don't feel well and I can't risk getting sick and missing anymore school.