So I'm home!
:D
Two of Mom's sisters and my 11-year-old cousin Josh came up from Chicago to visit us this weekend...they left this morning to head back home. We had such a good time catching up, showing off Heather's new house, playing games, telling stories (some of them even true!!)...mostly just enjoying each other. I forget sometimes how cool (like my mom) my aunts are...I am so lucky with the extended family God has given me.
So last night I played a game of monopoly with my two little sisters and 11-year-old Josh...who is, I've decided, 11 going on 25. He acts so much older than he is that half the night I mistakenly called him "Dan," confusing him with his older brother. I never really get to hang with Josh when we get together for family reunions in Chicago, since the younger kids usually hang out in one area and the adults in another, so it was really fun to do some serious hanging out with him and get to know him. I love hanging out with kids I like...I've never understood people who say blanket statements like: "I like kids." I gotta tell you, there are a LOT of kids I DON'T like. I couldn't say that any more than I could say: "I like adults." But Josh, him I like.
So the only plans I made for my break was to get my hair cut yesterday...which now that that's done, I have absolutely NOWHERE I have to go, nothing I have to do for the next WEEK!! (Not including homework of course, which of COURSE I don't) So I am pretty much completely, incandescently happy. Lazing is the bomb. :D
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
the anathema that is the weather, and other things in my life meant to "grow my character..."
i. am. going. nuts.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's not even CLOSE to spring yet, but I am still a serious sufferer of spring fever. Spring semester is such a challenge...by February I am ready to mentally check out of classes, and by March I'm ready to kill the first person who has the nerve to tell me they are loving school.
So we watched the first half of the film Pride & Prejudice (Keira Knightley and Matthew Mcfayden) in my Jane Austen lit class this afternoon...that is one of the movies that every time I view it, I love it even more. Usually film adaptations of my favorite books bother me to no end, but in this case I feel like they did such a superb job of capturing the tone, flavor and voice of the novel. And wonder of wonders, I actually think Keira Knightley more appropriately captures the personality of Elizabeth Bennett than any of the previous actresses who've tried the same. To me this movie is Knightley's saving grace; the one film I've seen of hers that convinces me she has at least some acting chops.
Moving beyond movies...(which, after all, is rather hard to do when one is desperate for escape!!) I've decided my friend Samantha wins the game of "who had the weirdest Valentine's Day weekend," which, considering the stories I've heard, is a pretty major feat. She spent the weekend with her grandparents who not only fought the whole weekend, but preceded to drag her to a strip club thinly veiled as a bar, on Saturday night. Apparently they decided their 21-year-old granddaughter is too "straight-laced," and needed her horizons broadened. It sounds like, by FAR, one of the most painful experiences I've ever heard of. I felt so bad for Samantha this afternoon as she was relating this to me that I took her out for cheap coffee afterward. Never have I been more thankful for the relative saneness of my family... :)
So I went to the library last night, and realized after about ten minutes of browsing that I was being tailed. By a five/six-year-old boy. With a lot of hair. I eventually caught him staring at me from behind a bookshelf and gave him a little wave, which just about sent him into hyperventilation. He ran off in a panic, careening into shelves and chairs like a crazed ping-pong ball. I discreetly followed, and watched as he recovered himself in a quiet corner before setting off. He then targeted a new stranger (an older man this time) and began his little spy mission anew. This whole incident left me laughing to myself for the rest of my library visit. Sometimes I think I haven't yet lost this fear and awe of the world around me...or my instinct to play "spy" with it.
So Kody has become my one saving grace in my Post-Modern lit class. Every morning we meet up before class and convince each other not to bail. Tomorrow we get our first in-class essays back, and I don't remember being this unnerved about a test since my first semester of college. This prof is simply impossible to predict, and therefore incredibly frustrating to write an essay for. I can't wait until tomorrow is over...
So I've stuck with my whole goal of finding one thing to focus on that makes me happy...it's incredible how much easier it makes staying cheerful. Yesterday I was thankful for my car. One of my classmates told me about what it's like to take the bus ever day, and it made me want to run out to the parking lot and literally hug my wheels. Despite how claustrophobic I occasionally feel in Ypsi, I am not stuck like many are. I have freedom of a sort (even if I don't have money to really drive anywhere...) :)
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's not even CLOSE to spring yet, but I am still a serious sufferer of spring fever. Spring semester is such a challenge...by February I am ready to mentally check out of classes, and by March I'm ready to kill the first person who has the nerve to tell me they are loving school.
So we watched the first half of the film Pride & Prejudice (Keira Knightley and Matthew Mcfayden) in my Jane Austen lit class this afternoon...that is one of the movies that every time I view it, I love it even more. Usually film adaptations of my favorite books bother me to no end, but in this case I feel like they did such a superb job of capturing the tone, flavor and voice of the novel. And wonder of wonders, I actually think Keira Knightley more appropriately captures the personality of Elizabeth Bennett than any of the previous actresses who've tried the same. To me this movie is Knightley's saving grace; the one film I've seen of hers that convinces me she has at least some acting chops.
Moving beyond movies...(which, after all, is rather hard to do when one is desperate for escape!!) I've decided my friend Samantha wins the game of "who had the weirdest Valentine's Day weekend," which, considering the stories I've heard, is a pretty major feat. She spent the weekend with her grandparents who not only fought the whole weekend, but preceded to drag her to a strip club thinly veiled as a bar, on Saturday night. Apparently they decided their 21-year-old granddaughter is too "straight-laced," and needed her horizons broadened. It sounds like, by FAR, one of the most painful experiences I've ever heard of. I felt so bad for Samantha this afternoon as she was relating this to me that I took her out for cheap coffee afterward. Never have I been more thankful for the relative saneness of my family... :)
So I went to the library last night, and realized after about ten minutes of browsing that I was being tailed. By a five/six-year-old boy. With a lot of hair. I eventually caught him staring at me from behind a bookshelf and gave him a little wave, which just about sent him into hyperventilation. He ran off in a panic, careening into shelves and chairs like a crazed ping-pong ball. I discreetly followed, and watched as he recovered himself in a quiet corner before setting off. He then targeted a new stranger (an older man this time) and began his little spy mission anew. This whole incident left me laughing to myself for the rest of my library visit. Sometimes I think I haven't yet lost this fear and awe of the world around me...or my instinct to play "spy" with it.
So Kody has become my one saving grace in my Post-Modern lit class. Every morning we meet up before class and convince each other not to bail. Tomorrow we get our first in-class essays back, and I don't remember being this unnerved about a test since my first semester of college. This prof is simply impossible to predict, and therefore incredibly frustrating to write an essay for. I can't wait until tomorrow is over...
So I've stuck with my whole goal of finding one thing to focus on that makes me happy...it's incredible how much easier it makes staying cheerful. Yesterday I was thankful for my car. One of my classmates told me about what it's like to take the bus ever day, and it made me want to run out to the parking lot and literally hug my wheels. Despite how claustrophobic I occasionally feel in Ypsi, I am not stuck like many are. I have freedom of a sort (even if I don't have money to really drive anywhere...) :)
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Emerging Slowly From the Cave...or how it felt to leave my dorm this morning.
So at least four people asked me why I was so happy today. I've decided that my mood is ENTIRELY too dependent on the weather. I need to work on that. You'd think this would have occurred to me before, as Michigan weather is not known for being kind...but maybe I've just never been this sick of cold weather before. Either way, I've decided I'm going to find something to be happy about every day for the rest of this week. Since the nice weather isn't supposed to last, this might become challenging, especially since my class work load this week is a killer, but I am determined. If I really get in a slump, I can always just read the paper or watch the news...somehow I always come away from that both extremely horrified and incredibly relieved for my life.
:)
So my sound poetry prof overheard me complaining this afternoon that we had to be in class instead of outside enjoying the weather...so she made me write a love poem to the class; basically outlining why I love the class so much. It was slightly horrifying; the poem was very very horrible, which is I guess what makes it funny. Tim now wants me to write a satirical love poem, one he can give his gf on valentines day. I am now very incredulous and suspicious about the function (dysfunction) of that relationship...
Meetings, meetings meetings...I've made a discovery this week. I hold Elizabeth Bennett as my all-time favorite Austen heroine...and this week has made me realize another aspect of why that is. Elizabeth is quite aware of - and deft - at playing the social games; small talk, posturing, basically standing around and talking about absolutely nothing. She plays this game to a point, but simply can't help but point out the ridiculousness of it all. I admire that so much...I feel like I waste so much time sitting around talking about nothing, or listening to others talk about nothing. It's so frustrating...I get these incredibly strong urges to suddenly say something completely inappropriate. My family is forced to listen to these outbursts at home, when I'm in the mood, or just bored...but I don't often give into this anywhere else. I guess it's the fear that I'll sabotage myself; totally ruin my image and therefore my future success. Stupid. So I've now decided it's unreasonable for society to force me to squelch my inner genius and wit, simply for image and appropriateness.
:D
So as I was waiting for a nurse to become available to take my blood last Wednesday, I got into a rather fascinating conversation about peanut butter with a fellow donor sitting one chair away. Suffice it to say, I was a fan, and he was not. I don't remember how this conversation began, but it was extremely random and hilarious. I simply don't understand the mind that is not completely enthralled with pb, and this guy seemed equally confused about the mind that is. I hope I helped him come to some kind of understanding...but I doubt it. I think he's one of those unfortunate individuals who will never be able to rid themselves of their unnatural predisposition against pb. Well, I can only try to save them - the rest is out of my hands.
:)
So my sound poetry prof overheard me complaining this afternoon that we had to be in class instead of outside enjoying the weather...so she made me write a love poem to the class; basically outlining why I love the class so much. It was slightly horrifying; the poem was very very horrible, which is I guess what makes it funny. Tim now wants me to write a satirical love poem, one he can give his gf on valentines day. I am now very incredulous and suspicious about the function (dysfunction) of that relationship...
Meetings, meetings meetings...I've made a discovery this week. I hold Elizabeth Bennett as my all-time favorite Austen heroine...and this week has made me realize another aspect of why that is. Elizabeth is quite aware of - and deft - at playing the social games; small talk, posturing, basically standing around and talking about absolutely nothing. She plays this game to a point, but simply can't help but point out the ridiculousness of it all. I admire that so much...I feel like I waste so much time sitting around talking about nothing, or listening to others talk about nothing. It's so frustrating...I get these incredibly strong urges to suddenly say something completely inappropriate. My family is forced to listen to these outbursts at home, when I'm in the mood, or just bored...but I don't often give into this anywhere else. I guess it's the fear that I'll sabotage myself; totally ruin my image and therefore my future success. Stupid. So I've now decided it's unreasonable for society to force me to squelch my inner genius and wit, simply for image and appropriateness.
:D
So as I was waiting for a nurse to become available to take my blood last Wednesday, I got into a rather fascinating conversation about peanut butter with a fellow donor sitting one chair away. Suffice it to say, I was a fan, and he was not. I don't remember how this conversation began, but it was extremely random and hilarious. I simply don't understand the mind that is not completely enthralled with pb, and this guy seemed equally confused about the mind that is. I hope I helped him come to some kind of understanding...but I doubt it. I think he's one of those unfortunate individuals who will never be able to rid themselves of their unnatural predisposition against pb. Well, I can only try to save them - the rest is out of my hands.
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