the whooping cough and other life-ailments...

So I just realized today that over the past week and a half I have very (well, mostly) comfortably slipped into the life of a hermit. Acute, obnoxious sicknesses that cause everyone to flee from the mere sight of you has surprising perks. I went out with Christina last night, my first social interaction in a week and a half. She was willing (actually, desperate) to hang since she is also ill with a super-virus. We met up at the university pond with the intention of walking around a bit, but by the time we'd walked about 20 feet we both laid down on the ground, completely exhausted. So we lay there for about an hour comparing symptoms and chatting about life. It was great. :D

But back to my original thought...I can't believe how un-bored I've been, mostly confined to my dorm. I think of myself as a pretty social creature most of the time, and I honestly do love people; I find them completely fascinating, and LOVE making new acquaintances. Yet at the heart of me, I think I am rather solitary. I love my own company; I love being away from distraction and rediscovering my inner dialogue and thoughts...and I am starting to sound way too pompous. :)

So Gina and Jenny visited me today! I was driving back from the district library, when I realize Gina called me and left a message saying "you have a half hour to call me back before you become the biggest loser on the planet" (or something to that effect). So I call her, and practically cause an accident on Huron River Drive when she says she's 20 minutes away from my dorm, and wants to take me out to dinner. It was awesome; the kind of surprise so good, even I hadn't thought to wish for it.

So I am signed up to donate blood on October 8.
I am terrified.
I do realize people do this all the time (and survive); it's something that I greatly admire and have always wanted to do. I just have a little, teeny, so-slight-it's-practically-Twiggy issue with people extracting fluids necessary for my continued survival. And yes, I know I have plenty extra. But besides the fact that the Red Cross is giving out free t-shirts to donars, this quote I have on my wall keeps sticking rather inconveniently in my head: "Do one thing every day that scares you." Darn that Eleanor Roosevelt! But yet shall I be brave. (However, if I do not survive, I expect someone who has read this post to begin an in-depth investigation exposing the Red Cross's gross malpractice, and possibly even reward me with some kind of posthumous peace medal).

meanies and their mean meanness...

What a long, completely exhausting day. Classes upon classes upon classes...then rushing back to eat before heading to VISION to help out with the food drive preparations...then straight from there to a CRU meeting. WHY do I attempt so much??

Actually, now that I think back on my classmates' vicious mocking of me in front of my entire Creative Writing class yesterday (don't ask me WHY he spent five minutes before our prof came in to class verbally insulting me - I have NO idea) the only accurate insult he leveled at me was classifying me as a "typical, tragic classic over-achiever." Though I am positive said classmate's intention was NOT to help bring about my personal growth, I've decided that that is precisely what I shall glean from it. (I've also decided it's a good thing I am a reformed meanie myself, because it's been surprisingly helpful in giving me a well-spring of grace in dealing with this jerk...)

ANYWAY...I found some of my prof's comments today quite thought-provoking. I wish I remembered them. Thank God for:
-short term memory
-paper
-pen
-note-taking

Without the above, I would be lost.

;)

disbelief, and other strange ailments

So my 80-year-old Shakespeare prof, and my 85-year-old Mythology prof, one a highly distinguished male and the other a highly distinguished female, have undoubtedly the dirtiest, crassest vocabularies I have ever heard. (This is a SLIGHT exaggeration, but ONLY slight) I am having quite the hard time getting over my shock, and possibly my previous stereotypes about academic individuals their age. These are all quite definitely quashed now, as I am forced to re-assess my thoughts on the subject. One point I would really like to bring up to my Shakespeare professor, however, is the fact that though he has on numerous occasions made it clear that he has absolutely NO patience with delicate "euphemisms" ("passing away," "sleeping with," etc.) he employs crass euphemisms CONSTANTLY in class, they just happen to be more blunt and to the point (in essence, more offensive). The lack of logic in this simply confounds me.

Anyway...I happened to notice a suspicious gathering of students outside this afternoon as I was walking by the student center on the way to class. Since I was going to be ridiculously early to class anyway (one of my many hopeless compulsions/paranoias), I stopped to see what the ruckus was about. Lo and behold, it's Rush Week at my school! (Oops, I mean "Orientation Week" - we're going PC about it or something...) so since I couldn't be less interested in joining a sorority (even the thought makes my scalp itch), I searched through the mayhem for a familiar face or two, and discovered a table set up from VISION! (My school's main volunteering organization) So I stopped to say hi, and got an entire pile of free stuff thrust into my face! :D For simply stopping to say hi to some aquaintances and expressing my appreciation for their work, I got (for FREE!):
-two VISON t-shirts
-an adorable "donate your organs" plastic cup that has a very cute (yet completely anatomically incorrect) heart on the front!
-flyers to hand out to people who see all the aforementioned advertisments and asks me what the heck is "VISON", and perhaps best of all:
-CANDY! :D
I love my school. (Well, the volunteering office, anyway...) :)

hugging: the new handshake?

I am so not physical. It did not take Sunday to show me that, but it was definitely an affirmation of the fact that the touchy-feely type expressions of greeting and/or affection are just SO NOT my thing. Sunday I attended a church that, though it does not call itself this, would best be described as "charismatic." To sum up the experience: I was hugged, pet, blessed by laying of hands, and tugged around by my hand for two-and-a-half hours straight. And though these people were all very well-meaning, one insightful, searching glance at my face would probably have revealed my high level of discomfort with all this touching. :S But I suppose I should just accept that not all experiences are supposed to be comfortable, and leave it at that.

So yesterday I officially made an enemy out of my English professor. And I am doubly chagrined to say that it was sort of on purpose. It was just one of those situations where I just COULD NOT hold my tongue, at least in good conscience. Typically, in almost all situations I am a fly-under-the-radar type person, but the ONE THING that really goads me into action is when I see someone trying to make someone else feel stupid. That is this prof's main hobby, I am convinced. What else is there to do, besides butt in and make an enemy out of a prof that will eventually have the power to make a huge impact on your gpa? (Hmmm...the first stirrings of regret and anxiety are beginning to appear....perhaps this plan was not well thought out after all...) :S

Hehe. Tons of stuff to do this week...not in the least of which is trying my ABSOLUTE HARDEST to get my butt home this weekend for Megan's 15th birthday celebration. After much deliberation I've decided it's stupid to let a little gas money, loss of study time (etc.) make me miss my lil sister's birthday. Someday I'll probably live like seven hours away. Then, MAYBE I'll have a good excuse. For now, it's time to do some amazing responsibilities/schedule juggling and go home.

So one of my profs was telling us the other day that the difference between reality and fiction is that while fiction has plot, our lives have no plot. Any plot that appears in our lives is plot that we isolate, or simply create. I've decided that this is one of my great gifts (possibly even my superpower): finding plot in the otherwise randomness that is my life. :D

the smell of pencils and wet trash

So back to school...literally. Being in my dorm again reminds me of...well...last semester, but also of being back in the womb - so comfortable, cozy, and CLAUSTROPHOBIC. And that is the last of my whining, since I know actually having my own dorm room strips me of that right.

The strangest thing today...I was hit on by almost every guy I came in contact with. Seriously, it started me thinking about whether that kind of thing is like a contagious disease or something. I really am actually not exaggerating much about this...I mean, the cafeteria dude drew a little mistletoe on my lunch lid, for goodness sake. Anyway, weird Twilight Zone stuff...

Watched the new Indiana Jones movie at the "Free University Movie-in-the-Park" showing last night...and all I can say is, Lucas, Spielberg and Harrison Ford, time to come up with a new idea. (Lucas, you especially. I mean, Clone Wars animated?? Come on now.)

I just remembered that the dreaded first week of classes - and having to introduce yourself a million times via stupid icebreakers - is officially OVER! YESSS! I am actually quite psyched about the first full week of REAL classes, although by this time next weekend I shall probably be stuck, arms flailing about, underneath a gigantic pile of textbooks, notes, syllabi and their corresponding homework assignments. Well, everything has a catch, now hasn't it? :S

P.S I cannot WAIT until they open up the trash rooms in my dorm, so they can move the smelly trash dumpster from underneath my window. Whose idea WAS that, anyway?!

Back To Earth: Life Post-Wedding

So it's done. As of Saturday, August 9th, 5:00pm pacific time, my sisters and I completed Operation: Wedding Madness Take #1. I've decided that Take #1 is appropriate, since now that we've played music for Ali's wedding, I'm thinking that from now on all the cousins on that side are going to want us to play for ALL their weddings. The terrifying fact that I have 27 cousins on that side just sent violent shivers up and down my spine.

So seriously though, the whole thing went amazingly awesome. We had so much fun together, though we're all excited about watching the video of the wedding. (Surprisingly enough, when you're up on stage playing the processional music, you tend to miss being able to actually watch the processional. Who knew?)

I find one of the most amusing things about the ceremony the fact that my total lack of sentimentality kept me from tearing up once about Ali's nuptials, yet as soon as Megan finished playing her piano part of the wedding march, I started sobbing like a little baby. In front of EVERY SINGLE MEMBER OF THE KRISKE SIDE OF MY FAMILY. (Which is about 65 people, give or take). It was weird though; something about watching my little 14 year old sister play with such confidence and grace made me feel like I had just witnessed her grow up. Right before my eyes. It was terrifying. And now I am constantly trying to save face with her after that horribly embarrassing display of sisterly pride and sentimentality. Unfortunately she knows all my comments about her incredibly short stature and infant age are complete bull, and that I really do think she is the bomb. (I am so pathetic at being a mean older sister) :S

So dancing at the wedding reception with my sisters, cousins and a Christian DJ was SO much more fun than dancing at the club. Now that I've had the typical clubbing experience (well, albeit with a group of Christian girl friends and NO BOYS in our group, so probably not quite so typical) which I will not lie, was fun in its own way, I am relieved to discover that I honestly do still enjoy that kind of thing more with my family in a family atmosphere. I think S will eventually want to do the clubbing thing again, now that our whole group of friends has turned 21. But despite the fact that I enjoy that scene, I guess what the wedding reception really made me realize was how pretty pointless the clubbing scene is. At the wedding reception I got to dance and be ridiculous and have fun, and create positive memories with my family while celebrating something worthwhile. At the club it's all about looking cool and attracting attention from the opposite sex, and most of all leaving (if not all, then at least some) inhibitions at the door. If S does ask me to go out clubbing again, I think I'll just tell her I'm sticking with our family Thanksgiving dance party in Aunt Dawn & Uncle Jon's basement dance floor for my dance party outlet. :D

So a little over two weeks and I'm headed back to college and my dorm and classes and dorm food and RA's and volunteering and...but amazingly enough, I really am not that overwhelmed yet. At some point it's gonna hit me that I have to once again move an hour-and-a-half away from Heather (older sister and best friend) and my sisters and my brother and my niece and nephew, who are probably going to grow like weeds while I'm gone and forget all about me... ::self-pitying sigh:: But other than that, I'm not overwhelmed at all. ;)

So now that Kate's back from her MONTH-AND-A-HALF study abroad European trip, and I've spent at least two hours listening as show me pictures of places I've dreamed about going MY WHOLE LIFE, I am now dead set on taking a year out of my adult life to travel. When and where and with just what money I will be doing this are obviously questions I am asking myself, but really, these questions resemble problems only on the surface. Underneath they are great big giant obstacles. Hehe. But still, God can do anything, and I really think it's important to Him too that I experience the world that He's created. (I've started writing a pitch letter explaining all of this to Him in more convincing detail. To be posted later...)

The Best and Worst of a Day

Em is healed!

This is probably not really the case; probably my beautiful, elegantly aged car is just messing with me, pretending to be all better, when in reality she is still crippled with numerous mysterious car ailments. But the fact that she's running is SO COMPLETELY EXCITING!

I've missed my car.

I think perhaps my relationship with my car is slightly unhealthy. But you know, whatever. :D

So the owner's son (12 years old) came into work today with his dad to "work." Apparently they're actually paying him to do absolutely nothing besides annoy every single person in the entire company. My method of dealing with him has been to ignore him, but I don't think it's a very good long term plan. It's almost too bad, because Plan B is stuffing him inside an empty crate in the warehouse and shipping him to China.

T minus 8 days and two hours until the Big Day.