Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue

I have the most amazing boy ever.

Fri, 09 May 2008 16:20:21 GMT

I know I have pages and pages of notes to share about General Conference. I know I need to bubble over with giddy pride over how amazing Fred's graduation was last week. I know I need to write down the amazing essay in my head about coming to the realization that having a partner is not a basic human right, but a luxury of a fortunate existence. I know I need to go work on my thesis. But all that is getting put aside for the moment so that I can preserve this moment.

Fred is proud that I'm strong-minded, brags about how I can take care of myself, and is constantly admiring how strong I am (strong muscles-mmm). Yet he's one of the very few people I don't have to be strong around- where it becomes a choice and not a necessity or defense mechanism against whatever icky things are in store. And he can marvel at his "strong woman" and me getting stuff done and working at UPS and helping carry all the way-heavy stuff with moving in and yet, when the time comes, he takes care of me. No condescension, no patronizing, no 'aw the little girl isn't nearly as strong as she thinks she is' b.s., nothing. If I need it, he does it. Like last night.

I

missed work and one of my classes Wednesday because I wasn't feeling too great. Was forced to go to my evening class because it only meets 10 times so thankfully I was feeling better. Couldn't miss my TTH class, either, because of out of town stuff and also because I had to prove I was up for stuff as last night we FINALLY had the showing of The Business of Being Born. I raced home after work yesterday with a quick candy bar on my way out, we threw together some dinner, and went on our way. Yes, we. Fred decided, on his own, that since this a having-kids-related issue and that there are plans for kids in the future, it was probably something he should see, too. And it was absolutely, wonderfully amazing and the natural births they showed where absolutely gorgeous (letting women give birth in more comfortable positions than flat on your back with legs spread wide means NO up-close between the legs camera shots btw) although I have absolutely zero stomach for seeing C-sections done and we both ended up with mental images of alien bursting through someone's chest. And my GWS boss finally got to meet Fred.

Unfortunately, the headache that had been niggling ever since I ate the candy bar (and which I had refused to consider while I was rushing around and had forgotten to take pain medicine for before we ran out the door), absolutely decided to explode in my temples to the accompaniment of a flushed forehead and unhappy stomach so by the time the panel discussion ended, I was an unhappy camper. I had an emergency stop at Walgreen's planned until the amazing boy remembered that I had a whole bottle of ibuprofen in my emergency kit in the car. Took some but my stomach forced me to stop right before we got on the highway.

I slumped over the steering wheel for a bit while the boy stroked my hair and then found me a little sprite and a boring sandwich from the restaurant whose parking lot I had invaded with not a word spoken about missing The Daily Show. My stomach finally reached the fine line of "either going to start getting better or lose it all" and we headed home where I just barely made it to the trash can in the laundry room.

And what did the boy do? Cleaned me up, took me upstairs, and put me to bed with a little sprite and a basin beside me. Took out the trash in the communal laundry room, replaced the bag, and came back upstairs while I blinked in and out of consciousness. Put away my sandwich, took my temperature, grabbed me some water in case I managed to keep the bubbly lemon-lime down, and e-mailed my teachers that I was sick. Sat beside me a lot and stroked my hair and said all the reassuring, fussy things that the little kid inside everyone wants to hear when they're sick. Left the room for long enough that I started to groggily feel abandoned until the quiet noises from the kitchen made me realize that he was doing all the dishes and putting away all the ingredients and such I had yanked out of the cupboard for dinner. Acquiesced to my child(-ish? -like?) plea and moved the air mattress into the bedroom and next to my bed so that he'd be there if I needed him in the middle of the night. That was my one request- the rest he did on his own. Within half an hour of throwing up, I was soothed and asleep with the lights out and the boy on the floor a few feet away, feeling wondrous and relaxed in a way that went far beyond having a relieved tummy. I felt so utterly, fully, and completely loved and cared for- I still have no words to describe it so I'll just leave it here.

I'm so happy.

I'll probably still be glowing in Michigan tomorrow when the women of the family there (from both sides of my family- a fact for which I'm deeply grateful to my mom's sister and sister-in-law) gather for a quiet bridal shower. I just wish more of the women from my dad's side had met Fred before this as he wasn't invited. But I'll have a new, precious, treasured memory warming me from the inside and shining through in every instant I speak of him or smile at his name. My Fred. I am so blessed.

Only read if you want to feel overwhelmed

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 03:55:26 GMT

I'm only writing this so I can stop thinking about it. UMC enthusiasts (that means you,
brassknight86
, and the lovely Creative Crocheter that I'm sure will show up soon), however, will want to note what I'm doing the weekend of April 25th and May 23rd.

So let's assume for a second that I'm not enriching 2 of the classes I'm taking this term. Let's assume that my only academic challenge is writing my honors thesis. Let's assume that because my 2nd job is so rewarding and eccentric, the hours I work at it don't exist. Now let's look at this term's schedule, shall we? And don't tell me this is overdue- it's only the beginning of the 3rd week out of 10 + finals. Just because weeks far in the future seem free doesn't mean they're not going to fill up later. Or sooner.

Every Monday: Class, 2 hours of work, bell choir, and 50% chance of thesis meeting.
Every Tuesday: Class, 2 hours of work, meeting.
Every Wednesday: 2 classes, 2 hours of work
Every Thursday: Class, 2 hours of work.
Every Friday: Class, 2 hours of work.

Classes:
Intro= Intro to Gender & Women's Studies
HST= U.S. Women's History
PHL= Science & Religion
GWS= my 2nd job

Mar. 23rd: EASTER with all that being a PK entails. Massive amounts of packing.
24-6 hour drive to IL, make it just in time for class.
25- turn in majorly important thesis form
26- Dr.'s appt, big meeting w/2nd boss- get GWS (work) schedule for term
27- thesis party- the honors office treats us well
28- Intro paper due (week ONE? come on!) 6 pages

30th- Birthday. I *guess* it turned out okay. The rummage sale in the morning was awesome (YEAH for getting neat things for the apartment) and hanging with
silveriris
and her boy was cool and even though doing my taxes in the middle was massively awful, at least I got them done. FIFTH anniversary with the amazing boy (celebrated early).

Apr. 1st- Unscheduled humiliation by cranky train conductor. Fetch coffee and such for GWS meeting that it turns out I WAS invited to but I had to work at the library. Discovered my 2nd boss loves Achatz Amish bakery.
2- realize that there's just no way I'm going to like my HST class. Kidnapped by 4th sister Kelly to celebrate birthday late. Forget to call and wish good friend Ang happy birthday because I think it's the 1st. Also miss a lot of previous day's pranks and site switching as result.
3-Moroccan Brown Bag GWS lunch- buy the treats for it first thing in the morning before getting on train. Kidnapped by
ayamechan1113
to celebrate birthday late.
4-Pack up and leave La Grange to take care of Lacie dog while her parents are in Pass Christian on Katrina mission trip.
6- Big Reconciling Ministries General Conference Meeting by Midwest Representatives of Parents Reconciling Network.

7- INTERVIEW. Hiking all over Chicago in my dress shoes. Completed massive CV and such for it the week prior and generally hyperventilated over it. Supposed to hear by this Wednesday or so.
9- film report due for HST class. wedding invitations get out sometime around here- done in mid-March but we finally had to give up on collecting the last of the addresses.
10- student worker lunch. post flyers for event on 17th. print shop gets order wrong, only delivers half the flyers. go to interesting talk on Lincoln's speeches by guy with a new book out "Lincoln's Sword" that's apparently won some pretty nifty awards. of course get a hard cover copy signed as a present for Fred's mommy.
11- Intro paper due 6 pages. Steal boy for day and a half.
13- Lacie's mommy and daddy return- Midway absymal, particularly after drive to border and back

14- submit 4 versions of small flyers for approval for Business of Being Born event. now have to convert one of them into 18x24 posters and hope resolution sticks. Just NOW realize that the body image flyers I put up last week don't even have the name of the special guest presenter on them. aw man now she's going to feel bad.
15- Green Faculty forum. can only go to half of it because I have work. Evening talk on life of civil rights activist Bayard Rustin at Elmhurst College called "Homophobia and Social Justice." Will try to make it but may exhaust it as no one else needs a ride anymore. Seems very relevant for RMN stuff.
16- HST essay due 6-8 pages
17- PHL essay due 8 pages. GWS brown bag lunch on body image. apologize profusely to amazing guest presenter who i've had several lovely conversations with on how i completely didn't mean to exclude her from all the publicity surrounding the event that she's, uh, the key presenter at. College Scholars Colloquy on "Going Negative: Attacks and Accusations in Presidential Campaign Communications" from 5:30-7 with pizza provided.
18- special Donors for Life event w/Illinois Secretary of State Jesse White in Naperville's library at 7 pm. Skipping in favor of Mommy and Fred visit.
19- meet with UMW ladies re: the wedding reception before they hightail it back to Des Moines. UMSO making trip to Chicago temple in afternoon?
20- Passover. NCC's chaplain ALWAYS has a special Seder meal but darned if I know when it is.

21- General Conference starts. Bite nails, check official UMC and non-official RMN sites. NCC's Salute to Seniors.
22- Arrange catering for GWS end of year lunch
23- GWS and HST midterms
24- Revenge Violence Movie & Lecture by my amazing thesis advisor OR a talk by the "Kevin sites in the Hot Zone" guy. Answer? NEITHER. Leave right after class to fly to FORTH WORTH for General Conference. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
25- Young Adult events start.
26- Young Adult events including end of 24-hour drumming circle (if that's anything like the shorter one at Student Forum last year it'll be WAY cool, along with as many RMN events as I can find. Hoping to find some lovely rainbow hair ribbons before then. Have to cancel the amazing trip
silveriris
and I so CAREFULLY scheduled. *sniff*
27- Wesley puts on their awesome children's drama "100% Chance of Rain" which ALL my little kidlets are in and which they've been practicing for MONTHS. Instead I'll be doing more RMN and MOSAIC stuff. Maybe some MFSA if I have time?

28- Higher Education Day. If a monetary miracle occurs, I'll actually be able to attend the official event for it but as tickets go for $100 a pop, it doesn't look likely.
29-Fly back first thing the morning and wonder how the heck I'm going to make up missing 3 straight days of class- 2 for GWS and 1 for PHL. 7 PM Buddhist Meditation event.
30- Resent every second of HST class for keeping me in IL just because only having 10 meetings makes it horrible to miss even one. May miss it anyway, as reason for it is far more important. The first draft (30 pages) of my honors thesis is due somewhere around here.
May 1st- FRED GRADUATES COLLEGE. Driving out with Kelly first thing in the morning or separately if she leaves day before. Missing two days class, one each for PHL and GWS.
2-GWS paper due- 6 pages. I guess I'll turn it in ahead of time? Hanging out with Fred and his buddies one last time
3- Fred moves to Illinois. If enough things are already moved, my dad won't have to make another trip out so he'd drive back with Kelly and me. AND THEN HE'LL BE MINE AND WE WON'T BE LONG-DISTANCE ANYMORE AND THE 26 MONTHS OF LONELY STINKINESS WILL BE OVER.

5-Comcast FINALLY installs internet in the apartment and I once again feel like a member of the 21st century.
6-Library's awesome end of year picnic for workers with mouth-watering goodies homemade by the lovely librarians. I get special recognition for working there so long AND they donate a book to the library in my honor with my name on a little thingy in the front and everything. I can't wait to see what it is!
8- OHMIGOSH it's finally here. THE BUSINESS OF BEING BORN special showing with panel discussion afterwards with a real live doula!! First event that I work on for 2nd job that involves being in the real live newspaper and not the campus one. Whoa.
9- NCC presentation of The Laramie Project.
10- Bridal shower with mom's side of family in MI. Only shower, as of now. My bridesmaids are very busy. Right, brassdollfin?
11- Mother's Day

13- Honors day, incl. Rall Symposium. I'm presenting my thesis as an actual TALK not poster board and am insanely nervous.
14- HST paper due
15- GWS end of year lunch

21- GWS paper due
23- leave for Student Forum. Miss MORE class. This is a LOT of absences for me, and nearly all of them UMC related!

26- I think I'm getting back from Student Forum Sunday night but it could be this morning. I guess it being Memorial Day means I get a bit of a chance to recover? I hope.
28-HST huge essay due
29-PHL big essay due
31- Mother-Daughter Tea Time at Wesley. Was adopted as a daughter for a day the Sunday it was announced.

2- I know I didn't put any of the other thesis meetings but this is the big "well, it's all turned in and done and everything and here's what the experience was like"
3- PHL final. HST final
4- GWS final
6- tons of College Scholars events (if I successfully complete my enriching I'll be a College Scholar. If not, I'll keep my invitation to all these cool events but will be demoted and downgraded and trivialized to the status of College Scholar "Participant"). Senior dinner, graduation rehearsal, NCC thinking I'll actually ATTEND a young alumni event when my family's in town
7-Graduate College. Not have it be as momentous as it should because now that school stuff's out of the way until fall, I'll be 100% focused on the wedding and while NCC is awesome, I love Fred more. Also, I'm only getting married once and I have a feeling there will be other graduation ceremonies.

The End!

Yes, I'm aware of the irony...

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 14:55:15 GMT

but I had to share. I started a LJ because I liked using it for NaNoWriMo- a blog format kept me accountable to the calendar, made it easy to measure progress, and allowed for my fellow writers to suggest and give constructive feedback. Do I write there anymore? No. Do I still have tons of ideas and essays on where it could go next? Of course. Do I post there? No. Why? I feel greater obligation to keep my friends and family updated on what's going on in my life than I do to my work, my creation, the other writers I've never met who shame me with their productivity. How to break out of it? I don't know. I love keeping in touch, I love keeping an account of my life to read years later. But I can at least give you this:

Robin Hobb
Vampires of the Internet

It was a dark and stormy night. The chime rang on my computer, indicating that a new email had arrived. I peered at it through my bi-focals. It was from a fledgling writer I had recently befriended. With a trembling finger, I double clicked my mouse to unfurl the missive upon my screen.

What I saw filled my heart with dread. Her letter was brief. It said she had finally caved in to reader pressure and was going to keep a blog. I was immediately struck with a lurch of dread. Not another one. Not another writer falling to the ever insatiable Live Journal and the tawdry lure of the blog!

A gleaming blue link in her letter flashed seductively, inviting me to visit her new LiveJournal blog. A single click was all that stood between me and the anti-fiction!

With a small shriek of terror, I hit delete. Then I carefully wiped my mouse down with alcohol before blessing myself from a small bottle of White-out that I keep on my desk. (Sometimes, only the old remedies will work.) Delete it from my mind, I beseeched my Muse. Edit it from my awareness and preserve me from like temptations. My friend had fallen to the dark side. I knew that I had to forget her, to dismiss her from the ranks of promising young writers and somehow soldier on without her.

In the next moment, my conscience smote me. I was abandoning her to her fate. Yet didn’t I deserve at least part of the blame for her fall? Oh, my dear young writer, didn't anyone tell you that Live Journal is actually where the Living Dead of the writing world are created?

There are many kinds of vampire in this old world. Some suck ambition and confidence from you. Others press white teeth to your throat and actually draw off your blood. But give me teeth at my throat, real teeth, a thousand times over before I am left to face alone the specter of a LiveJournal Blog of my own.

For once a writer has entered that realm, there is no turning back. T’is true, so sadly true. Soon when your precious hour of free time arrives and you sit down to write, you will think to yourself, 'oh, but I must do my blog first.' And you will go there, and dutifully blog. At first, you will notice nothing amiss. It is pleasant to receive the daily dose of recognition from your readers, the gratifying feedback, and the responses that invite a response from you.

But my dear friends, it is NO COINCIDENCE that blog and blood begin with the same three letters!

Daily you will rise and go to your keyboard. You will blog. And you will read what people write in response to your blog. And you will write responses to what they have written. And then you will visit the blogs of those who have responded to you. And you will write pleasant and cheery comments there. And then you will go back to your own blog, to see if anyone has responded to your responses. And then you will go back to the blogs of others, to see if anyone has responded to your responses to them.

And the clock will suddenly say midnight. And you will look at your manuscript in consternation. How can it be that there are no new pages, not even a paragraph? Where has the time vanished? Why are your hands so weary?

Too weary to type so much as a sentence of your book.

Tomorrow, you will say to yourself. Tomorrow I will start afresh, and I will type all day to make up for the pages I have not written today. With the best of intentions, you will go to sleep.

But on the morrow, when you wake and rise, you will not write. You will blog.

So it will go. Slowly. Inevitably.

When you sit down to write, try as you might, you will blog instead. Blogging is easier. The gratification is immediate. When you look at the empty screen that demands a disciplined scene between three-dimensional characters, you will say to yourself, “It’s too hard just to start cold. I’ll warm up by blogging. Just a little bit.”

And again, when you look at the clock, it will say midnight. Another precious writing day will have flown. You will assuage your guilt by saying, “But I did write today. I wrote in my blog. And is it not important that I connect with my readers there, that I share daily news with my peers? It’s important to my career, is it not, to be visible on the Internet?

Every day, when you try to sit down to write on your book, you will notice a strange weariness in your fingers. You mind will go blank as you look at the blank screen. And then, almost of their own volition, you fingers will dance on the keys, typing in the dreadful www.livejournal.com Soon you will add it to your favorites, so that the ravenous time leech is but a single mouse click away. Day my day, key press by key press, it will draw you down into the hell from which so few writers return.

Look at your hands, where your wrists hover so lightly above your keyboard. What are those minute, strange marks there, on your pulse point? Could they be punctures the size of a pixel?

The nights and the days, the hours in which you used to write, edit and rewrite your deathless prose will slowly, drip by drip, character by character, key press by key press, be drained into Live Journal. The blogs there will grow fat and swollen, round bellied with the creativity they have siphoned off from your fingertips. The other trapped writers there will clutch at you with bloodless fingers, offering you feedback, praise for your advice, tales of their new kittens and recipes for turnovers. And you will read them all, every word, filling your mind with the daily doings of those other poor damned souls. And you will write responses. And when night falls, you will think that you have been a writer today.

But you have merely blogged.

In the deep of night, you will awake, suddenly knowing how you should have responded to that troll. In the darkness, you will stumble to your computer, and with trembling fingers, push the ‘on’ button. In the dim flickering of the monitor, your fingers will settle on the keys. You will type and type and type. No fiction will emerge.

But Live Journal will feed.

You will not even recall that this was the day of your deadline. You will not think of the white-faced editor who wrings her hands haplessly and asks, “But when? When? When will the book be done?”

To which you will have no answer.

Blog. Blog. Blog. Blog. Say it aloud. Doesn't it sound like the slow drip of creative blood onto the uncaring Internet?

My dear friend, writer of writers, esteemed teller of tales that no one else can tell, beware! Blogging is not writing. It masquerades as such, t’is true. You sit at the desk, your fingers dance their blind and clever dance across the keyboard, words appear upon the screen, and oh, it feels like writing, like the easiest sort of writing, the writing that needs not to be justified on the morrow. It is the writing that makes the idle stupidity of the day something of worth, for has it not been written down, have not readers shared it and responded to it? Have you not been recognized, flattered and preened for today’s bon mot? Is not that what the writer lives for?

Remember that you are a storyteller, skilled in the seemingly effortless courtship of the story. You have danced the dance of a thousand veils, revealing to your rapt reader a world, page by page by fluttering page. You have drawn the reader in, stripped him of his doubts, suspended his belief and beguiled him into living in your dream with you. You have left him spent upon the shores of your world, heard him mutter to himself, “I can’t believe it’s over. When will she finish her next book?”

This is not a feat that is accomplished thoughtlessly.

Ah, my writer friend. It is harsh but it must be said. Compared to the studied seduction of the novel, blogging is literary pole dancing. Anyone can stand naked in the window of the public’s eye, anyone can twitch and writhe and emote over the package that was not delivered, the dinner that burned, the friend who forgot your birthday. That is not fiction. That is life, and we all have one. Blogging condemns us to live everyone else’s tedious day as well as our own.

You and I, we are meant to write and edit and write again. We are meant to agonize over a verb, to dig in the day’s discarded fragments to recover that one phrase worth saving, and to put all those days of writing into one coherent whole, which, graced with covers, will reside on a bookshelf, not for moments but for years. We are meant to write stories in which events have meaning and lives make sense, to make up for the nonsense and drudgery of reality.

Oh, my dearest writer friend. Be strong. Resist the siren call.

Don’t blog. Write.

http://robinhobb.com/rant.html

Books she's written: http://robinhobb.com/books-main.html

I'm not sure if I want this back.

Mon, 07 Apr 2008 18:07:57 GMT

It's been a weird experience living for 2 weeks without any easy means of Internet access except my shifts at work. I thought I would miss so much but my own worry was limited to concerns over urgent e-mails and being able to keep in touch with the professors I work for with all the GWS events coming up this term.

But with Lacie-sitting, I've had fast Web at my fingertips all this weekend and will all this week as well. Fred and I think we've figured out a way to vanquish the mighty Comcast demons and get access in our apartment sometime soon. And you know what? I don't want it.

The past few years my biggest time-waster to the tenth degree (literally) was the Internet. Random things, cool things, things to read and see and look at that linked to other cool things. Online stories, comics, news, everything. Fascinating books I can occasionally put down and hide in the corner under a pillow. And even the best books don't have 10 sequels in the back cover.

But when I was web-less in the apartment, I got things done. I went to bed and woke up at reasonable hours. I wasn't late for the train because I wanted to look at one last thing before I left. I had to face my loneliness and isolation and unsettled feelings head on instead of subsuming them in some morass of online entertainment. I felt more awake because my eyes weren't strained from late hours in front of the computer. I got more knitting done.

And now? I was up late doing something last night because needing e-mail and access to some research sites for what I was working on somehow led to remembering sites I hadn't checked on since mid-March and getting caught up with all of it. Never missed them before, but there it was. And now, RIGHT NOW? Lacie wants me to throw my ball for the next 20 minutes until I leave for class and I am sitting here typing this out.

I know I need the Internet in my place. I know I need to keep up to date with my e-mails, class cancellations, and other news (particularly if I get the job I'm interviewing for tomorrow). I know I'll need to do research, lots of research, for my papers this term- checking references, facts, finding new articles and sources and requesting books online. I know this. But I still want a way to shut it all off- to be restricted to dial-up to guarantee that only the most essential things will get done- to have some master setting that I can't undo that will prevent fun things from showing up on Firefox. Unplugging the ethernet cable doesn't work- I think of something I just have to peek at really quick before I go back to work and 90 minutes later I'm still taking one last peek.

Lacie deserves better. I deserve better. All the things I need to get done- for my future, the quality of my current life, my classes, my Fred- deserve better. So why does it keep sucking me in?

I'm only kinda back

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 20:59:35 GMT

Hello! Yes, I'm back from spring break. Yes, I started another term. Yes, I'm working at the library where there are plenty of computers. No, I'm not really back online. I'm currently at a computer with a pretty cruddy mouse and I have a meeting in 25 meetings so I'll have to make this short.

Wednesday March 12th: Turned in all my papers but one didn't get done as early as I thought it would so I didn't even get started packing until nearly 3 in the afternoon. Fred used his ninja powers and convinced one of the groom's men to show up and take a load of boxes over to the new place. Not sure how he pulled that one off but now I owe Drater a big favor and an apology for not knowing that there are ways to get there that are WAY shorter than driving east on Ogden for an hour. We unloaded his car and then I unloaded mine on my own 'cuz he had to drive out to NIU and pick up a friend and then I headed back to Naperville for the final load after dark. Was finishing packing that up and grabbing the last of my things (only thing I left was my shower cleaner because I didn't see it in the stall- still have to go back to it) when brassdollfin's amazing mommy called up and offered me inflatable furniture. Whoo! So I went over, somewhat guiltily as I wasn't done emptying the room until after 9 and I would be charged a major fee if I didn't check out til Thursday, but I went anyway. And the furniture was cool looking and purple and she gave me some nice extra knitting yarn as well (and I got to see Stormy's birthday present early- WHEE- but I was very, very good and kept it a surprise like I was supposed to) but the real story is that when I tried to leave because I realized that if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to drive all the way back to LaGrange and stay awake, Stormy's mommy went into mommy-mode and made me stay the night. Of course, I was devastated. Comfy sofa bed with Zipper as company instead of the floor of my place? No contest. But then not only did a certain fantastic 2nd mommy of mine produce a toothbrush, she insisted I take the available bedroom. So for anyone who wanted to know, I'll be all gossipy (but I'll take it down if she minds) and go on record as saying that brassdollfin's room is every bit as cool as it was the last time I saw it and her bed is every bit as comfy as it looks. I slept SO well.

Thursday March 13th: Went to school just to check my e-mail and return my library books only to discover something had gone screwy with my paper for my grad class. Fixable, but it took awhile and the professor was on campus for a math conference. Of course I got him the pretty nice better version of the paper right when he was closing the conference and heading out the door to go on a trip with the family, but at least it was in and my grade was nice even though I *STILL* forgot to add something I was supposed to. As in, the title of the book I analyzed. Oops. Mid-afternoon I finally got a chance to head back to my place (another lunch on the run- yuck- after several hours of being painfully hungry) and unloaded the final boxes of stuff from my dorm. Got my first shower in DAYS (that on top of wearing Wednesday's clothes made me feel majorly disgusting), had dinner with Kelly and her dad (mmm porkchops), and crashed on the floor on top of my squishiest blankets

Friday was moving in and settling stuff and Fred and my dad getting in WAY late in the evening with a twin bed, the kitchen table, 2 chairs, and some small sets of shelves. My dad was exhausted so we gave him the bed and retired with the air mattress to the office-y area. Man, was I hug and cuddle deprived. Saturday morning we hit Wesley's pancake breakfast, picked up a loveseat (NOT a futon) from a church family that had an old one they didn't want any more, and took it to the apartment so my dad could head back to Des Moines right away. The color's fairly bland and you do sink in it but it is cozy and comfy and has no rips or stains or anything. I also had a continuation of my massive sense of wonderment and awe that so many people are doing such incredibly nice things for me/us. Kelly and her grandpa, Stormy and her mommy, the church people (including the one who sold us the kitchen table last year), etc, etc and this week brought a new entry to the list but I'll tell about that later. Fred and I followed to Des Moines at a more leisurely place, seeing Kelly and attempting to see Drater before we left (ok, we did get to see him for a minute but only after a huge long conversation with his parents when none of us could reach him or knew when he'd show up) and then we went home, pulling in at about 1-something in the morning. Of course we still got up and went to church early the next morning, why do you ask? If it hadn't been Palm Sunday, we would have been tempted just to stay in Chicagoland, go to Wesley together, and head back Sunday afternoon, but you know how these things are. Sunday afternoon I think we crashed but I have absolutely no clue.

Oh no! I'm out of time. Uh, quick re-cap. Comcast is stupid so we won't have internet in our place for awhile, Fred had 2 days of jury duty, I had a nice early birthday dinner with my parents, Fred, and Tim (MMM porkchops and chocolate chip cake with butterscotch filling and chocolate frosting), I saw a very nice nurse-practitioner who used to work for Planned Parenthood and am now on birth control so just in case something goes wrong there will be time to get started on a new method before the wedding (why do nearly all the barrier methods rely on you having sex before they can fit you with something that will protect you from getting pregnant while you're having sex? it doesn't make sense!!!), John did NOT have one of his best visits home, wedding stuff is fun and my dress is going fantastic (despite the panic attack over the scarcity of the fabric) but stuffing envelopes and putting labels on things is boring, I have a lot of family and if we only invite friends we both kinda know for the sake of not having guests that are strangers to one of us then pretty much all of my college friends won't be there (*SNIFF*), my mommy did a FANTASTIC job preaching on Good Friday from Psalm 22 (I got to be liturgist), Easter Sunday was pretty cool too, Fred and I have been engaged exactly two years (well, two years and a few days now), we're officially registered at Target, and Easter wiped us out so much I drove back to Naperville Monday morning. Oh yeah, and I love trains but I do not like train stations. Bye for now!

Still here... still going...

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 05:18:08 GMT

Everyone has to angst out every once in awhile, right? I'm sure I'll do the same again in a few hours after the all-nighter I'm about to pull.

So I wanted to at least give people a bit of a smile, although bitter sweet at best. Bitter sweet because MAN is this song true despite how much fun it was.

Superchic(k) hasn't made many music videos so I found it set to, uh, Harry Potter! Mostly Goblet of Fire but some Prisoner of Azkaban thrown in as well. Surprisingly, it works. Quite well. Particularly with the prom queen (Fluer) and showing off and talking behind people's back stuff.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAt4UG5gL0k&NR=1

You know you want to hear it....

Guy: Dude did you hear that Superchic[k]'s playing the prom?

CHORUS:
Cuz, high school (high school)
Could be (Could be)
A mini me of the rest of society
There's always ()
A prom queen (prom queen)
There'll always be, always be seroritys
Sadly (Sadly)
Some will be (some will be)
Eternally keeping score of popularity
And just 'cause (just 'cause )
They all do (They all do)
Doesn't mean we have to act like we're in high school

High school is like a big competition
Beauty contests, prom court is the mission
There can only be one queen, one king
Everyone voting, everyone competing
But these are the rule, the way of high school
If someone puts you down
That's so high school
Someone talks behind your back
That's so high school
and when you you have to get them back
That's also high school

I know -I'll be- graduating early

CHORUS

High school is like the state of the nation
Some people never change after graduation
Believing any light you shine makes their's lesser
They have to prove to everyone that their's is better
These are the rules, the ways of high school
If someone puts you down
That's so high school
Believing they're too cool for you
That's so high school
if you believe it too
That's also high school
I know I'll be graduating early

CHORUS

Doesn't mean we have to act like we're in high school
Doesn't mean we have to act like we're in high school
We've all got bad yearbook photos
Which we've forgot to let go
And just like acne our insecurity
Should be something we left with the JV
So here's to letting go of yearbook photos
Things we kept that hold us down so
That was yesterday, there's always tomorrow
We are tomorrow, we are tomorrow
I know I'll be graduating early

CHORUS:
cuz high school (high school)
Could be (Could be)
A mini me of the rest of society
There's always (always)
A prom queen (prom queen)
There'll always be, always be celebrities
Sadly (Sadly)
Some will be (Some will be)
Eternally keeping score of popularity
And just 'cause (just 'cause )
They all do (They all do)
Doesn't mean we have to act like we're in high school
girl: stupid high school

we've all got bad yearbook photos
which we forgot to let go
and just like acne
our insecurity should be something we left with the JV

so heres to letting go of yearbook photos
things we've got that hold us down

so that was yesterday there's always tomorrow
we are tomorrow
we are tomorrow
so i know i'll be graduating early

CHORUS:
Cuz, high school (high school)
Could be (Could be)
A mini me of the rest of society
There's always ()
A prom queen (prom queen)
There'll always be, always be celebrities
Sadly (Sadly)
Some will be (some will be)
Eternally keeping score of popularity
And just 'cause (just 'cause )
They all do (They all do)
Doesn't mean we have to act like we're in high school

Doesn't mean we have to act like we're in high school
Doesn't mean we have to act like we're in high school

Girl: Stupid highschool

36 Hours from Now...

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 21:53:46 GMT

Where will I be emotionally?
Will I be okay?
Will I finish what needs to be done or will I be agonizing over the late deadlines?
Will I be proud or satisfied or angry that the past week may have jeopardized one of my last chances at special recognition for my GPA?
Where will I be physically?
I don't know.
I just... don't know.
I need a hug.
All the chocolate in the world can't fix this.

Oh noes! Politicals!

Sat, 08 Mar 2008 04:58:32 GMT

So words can not even begin to describe how happy I am to hear from people about the different stuff I've posted this week. It's definitely more interesting than what's been going on in my life. I particularly loved that, after spending the afternoon thinking that I should go back and clarify a lot of the stuff I posted earlier, particularly that I didn't put up the "women abandoning women" article because I think all women should vote for Hillary (definitely not) but because I was really surprised to see the concept named and addressed in that way, I am greeted by a lively and outspoken post that said many of the same things. Whoo intellectually stimulating friends... dare I say it?... for the win (oh no, I'm a product on the internet!).

One of my textbooks for my Social Movements class is "The World Split Open" by Rosen and while it's VERY encouraging and positive as a whole, it does devote a chapter to the in-fighting and struggles that many of the top women leaders faced. Gloria Steinem was bashed for being too "mainstream," too glamorous, too conventionally attractive in terms of dress and make-up, and too much of a media darling. Leader after leader quickly gained prominence because of a certain article or book they wrote but then were just as quickly abandoned, discredited, and criticized for wholly unrelated reasons as soon as they made a single statement that their fan club disagreed with. Lesbians were told they were hurting the movement by being too extreme and out there. Betty Friedan of all people, to whom so many women owe so much, was the one who coined the term lavender menace. Many women bashed their more "out there" compatriots for driving away support and sympathy for the cause as a whole through their adoption of radical stances. Women who despaired of the possibility that marriage could ever be an egalitarian institution were blasted for making all feminists seem like man-hating home wreckers who thought all women should abandon their spouses and children.

And as a good student, I know I'm supposed to ask "WHY?" but I just don't have a good answer. I refuse to believe that women naturally destroy other women. I could make a lot of convincing arguments over how ANYONE who's part of a group that's not empowered, disenfranchised, looked down upon, disrespected, etc, will have some members who are obsessive over destroying anyone they can whom they see as having too much, anyone who's too successful, or causes too much envy/jealousy/controversy. In this, as in many other things, I think women are serving as the canary in the mine but nearly everyone else wants to dismiss it as a girl problem and yes, that's a reference to the studies done that when schools and companies go out of their way to make things family-friendly and female-compatible (or whatever the term's called), suddenly the men start doing much better, too. IMSA's style of teaching and its experiments with temporary girls-only classrooms came up as well so that's yet another thing I'm absolutely itching to hear yuri93's thoughts on.

The idea reminds me a lot of a research study I found for my presentation on homosexuality, where men who were told they were viewed as having some effeminate traits were incredibly negative and hostile toward images of homosexual men. Men who were told they were seen as having masculine traits tended to be much more mild, moderate, welcoming, and opening. I.E. their male egos could handle tolerance as their own masculinity wasn't being threatened.

Attributing it to a lack of power explains why the kids who were "out there" had trouble making friends, no matter how kind and trustworthy they were. It explains why a professor worried about getting replaced may not tout the credentials of their grad or post-grad protege quite as much as they should and I think it happens in management as well.

I could even make the dubious claim that my strong mind, outspoken opinion, and rampant feminism meant that only a man who was either quite secure and/or utterly indifferent on the subject (possibly a side effect of the security and therefore lack of worry/concern) of his masculinity could fall in love with me. Pathetic thing of me to say? Perhaps. But in the rare occasion of a guy having a crush on me, they all wanted to engage in some variant of taming me, toning me down, softening my rhetoric, proving their superiority over me, giving me an alternative "outlet" for my feminist energies (seriously dude, no). Oh geez, there was this one guy (brassdollfin and silveriris, I think you know who I'm referring to) who constantly picked arguments with me just so he could try and prove me wrong and prove himself as my intellectual superior and somehow gain the upper hand- as if besting me would have led to me developing an attraction for him- personally, I thought he'd seen too many romantic comedies where the man and woman are rivals and she starts feeling a strange attraction to him as soon as bests her somehow or wins some witty little banter or whatever. Also that after the first few months and months and months of it, the continued skepticism from people who refused to believe that Fred gave me lots of hugs for non-sexual reasons went from entertaining to aggravating to simply ludicrous. And please don't get me started on the people who expressed surprise that I would date someone who had a reputation for being "macho" because I was "like, into girl power and all that stuff" with the frequent implication that all my views were nothing but bitterness over being single. Height, broad shoulders, a trench coat, and no record of saying a girl's attractive or he's got a crush on anyone, even a celebrity, seems insufficient to explain the image Fred had in high school, but there it was. We still giggle about it. Anywho.....

But making this argument specifically for women.... no. I would much rather believe that all the stupid petty cattyness of middle and high school was a result on inbred, in-grown insecurities, deficiencies, obsessions over the media and cultural standards of beauty, attractiveness, popularity, acceptable behavior, etc, etc that women as a whole seem to suffer from more than any other large-scale demographic rather than some sort of unavoidable "girl thing." Ruining your friend's relationships or trying to steal her man or compete for the same one is not a "girl thing"- it's an expression of underlying insecurity. And yes, I will agree a lot of the reasons for this underlying insecurity is because of society's dictates on what a woman should be (attractive, popular, sexy, able to get a man whenever she wishes, the most successful of her friends, etc). And I think that being vulnerable to these stereotypes and prejudices in turn results in more women fitting them- how long can anyone be bombarded with images and ads telling them to worry about all the trouble areas they didn't even know they had before they do start worrying about them?

Getting back to the issues raised in my textbook, I think a lot of criticism and backlash came from the rest of the society insisting of viewing any sort of extremism and anomaly as being the unanimous position of the whole. This, in turn, is what spawned paranoia over what all the leaders and groups said or did or supported, for fear of how it would reflect on the whole instead of being taken as, oh, one opinion expressed by one person who's liked and respected for their other opinions. A few splinter groups and one display of symbolic purification and the rejection of constraints mostly consisting of girdles, high heels, sexist texts, housewives manuals, etc, has turned into the massive, pervasive stereotype that feminists are all bra burning lesbians. One display! Nothing was ever on fire! Somehow one "bad" friend makes the whole group look bad, tolerating daring and radical new positions implies agreement and support, etc, etc, etc.

And because I've been ranting, I'll leave you with one of my brand new sources on the presentation I'm doing Monday. This would be an interview with Monsieur Dan Savage of the infamous Savage Love advice column, in a recent interview with Ms. magazine:

"I think one of the reasons straight guys are so violent and crazy is that sex is hard to find when you're a straight guy. It really is. Women are less willing to have chance, random encounters with men, because sex is riskier--physically and emotionally--for women. Letting someone into your body is always going to be more taxing than sticking it into someone's body. And so long as straight people regard sex as just vaginal intercourse, women are going to be less likely to engage in casual sex.

When two men consent to go to bed together, that's the beginning of the negotiations about what's going to happen. When a man and a woman consent to going to bed together, that's--in almost every case--the end of the negotiation. What's gonna happen is, he's gonna f*** her. Women know that, and so women are less likely to consent. My boyfriend and I don't f*** each other in the ass every time we have sex, my god! We wouldn't want to! So long as straight people have such an idiotic and narrow definition of sex, straight guys are gonna have a hard time finding it. And it's their own fault, to a great extent. Because they assume that sex means vaginal intercourse, and when they don't get it, they don't think it's sex, and they're mad. That's crazy."

Ah, controversy. And yes, I censored the cuss words, although I would argue that his verb usage is the most appropriate use of the f-bomb possible (it's not an adjective, people!). Since I don't cuss, it seems weird to just cut and paste someone else's swear words into my text, even if it is a quotation. And also because I hope that one day my mom will start peeking at this when she wants to find out what I've been up to because I generally end up re-capping all my recent posts for her anyway and if she'd already read them then we could just start talking about and discussing what I've been up to and what I've been thinking instead.

Here's What I've Been Doing in Class Today!

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 18:02:26 GMT

Well, not in actual class time- that was full of really cool presentations on our final project. I was sad because mine ran over so I couldn't say a few of the really neat facts I was saving for my conclusion and it wasn't until afterwards that the phrase "stories and statistics" occurred to me as a better way of describing the struggle and interaction among/between birth narratives and birth facts and figures.

This is actually what's been going on in the discussion board for my Feminist Perspectives class which the teacher utilizes as a way to continue discussions and probe even more in depth into issues then we do in class. Also, in acknowledgement that some students are much better at writing than speaking or feel more comfortable expressing themselves non-verbally.

This week's highlights:
Too much cute: one mother reacts against Always and its "HAVE A HAPPY PERIOD" slogan
"Hillary Clinton and the Women Abandoning Women Syndrome" written by a woman who has been much abandoned in her own life. Hints at the dynamics of threat to women, status, popularity, etc, when one figure either does too well, makes one mistake, or incurs criticism that supporters can't bear to be linked with. I.E. Why do your friends all ditch you when you something bad happens to you, even if it's not your fault?

That's all!

Just when I thought this school had some good qualities

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 20:50:25 GMT

Being a senior on the school's humor magazine means that I'm supposed to do something spectacular and out there for my final article. I was thinking witty critique on a bunch of the stuff that's wrong/still wrong/newly wrong on campus (my freshmen year the big sport was Ultimate Frisbee- now it's BEAN BAGS). But I was only occasionally feeling bitter enough to be really full of good ideas (although it's been days since the Director of NCC's Wellness Center opened my e-mail on "Why does NCC flood its students with cheap, brightly colored condoms and then refuse to fill birth control prescriptions when there's a full MD on staff? and she still hasn't gotten back to me). This all changed. In the past 2 hours.

Things were going okay with my group project, despite the other 2 people getting their papers done 5 days later than we agreed. Some of the filled-out surveys we're analyzing were SPECTACULARLY stupid but hey, things happen.

NCC's Students for African-American Brotherhood had a fantastic yearly dinner last night (to which the President of the group hand-delivered my invitation- whoo for connections!) and a friend of mine from the library was unanimously elected to their Executive Board. I *heart* Heaven on Seven catering.

I've only received one unpleasant message about my letter to the editor. The winter issue of the Kindling came out yesterday and so far no one's posted hate mail and 2 students behind me are giggling over the departmental pick-up lines that one of my freshmen friends collected. Things seemed to be good.

Then I went to lunch today. Oh NCC, what have you gotten yourself into? The whole cafeteria was plastered with beach/tropical themes and covered in signs. Lots and lots of signs. The theme? "BE YOUR OWN LIFEGUARD." The advice? Don't drink too many drinks an hour. Eat a lot while you're drinking. Drink a lot of non-alcoholic drinks because sun, sea water, and alcohol are all dehydrating. Don' t drink in hot tubs; you might pass out. Don't play on hotel balconies or lean on railings. I wish I was making this up!!

The most numerous sign, second only to the humongous life guard banner, was "MAKE IT FUN. MAKE IT SAFE. MAKE IT HOME." Uh, sure.

They were also, of course, having giveaways. You could either get a bottle insulator shaped like a t-shirt and colored in a gaudy Hawaiian print or a baggie of sun supplies, such as lip balm and sunscreen. Never one for turning down Chapstick, I took the bag without asking any questions and tried not to laugh at the t-shirts the "Safe Spring Break Campaign" people had made up for the event.

But now, having written this, and having spent a period of time in the brightly decorated cafeteria after taking the little white lunch bag, I'm starting to get suspicious. And skeptical. And paranoid. What is in the bag??

Hmmm. Let's see. A thing of Blistex, still in the individually-wrapped box. Never tried it before, should be interesting. Oh wait, is this a small purse/travel-sized bottle of sun screen? No. No, it's not. It's a sunscreen lotion.... towelette? Huh. Apparently you're supposed to rub it all over yourself. Thanks, directions. Oh, and what's this? "Rinse with water to remove." But wait! The "Uses" say that it lasts for "80 minutes of activity in the water or sweating." Guess it takes a lot of rinsing? There is of course a pamphlet giving lots of advice which, surprisingly, actually has better grammar than most of the wellness center flyers and "stall readers" (now called "Fit while you Sit!"). *groan* Some of it's priceless advice includes the hot tub thing: "since pretty much every MTV video makes it look glamorous," water safety: "if the waves look dangerous... they probably are," hotel safety: "don't overcrowd elevators" because malfunctions "cause you to be stuck with really bad elevator music," personal hygiene: "don't go pee in an alley," the sensitive comment of "to avoid a hangover, don't drink so much (duh!)," and "STDS are more embarrassing than a condom!" On to the odd plastic thing. A yellow clearish plastic with a compass smaller than the nail on my pinkie (and I have little hands, too). Part of a keychain (big surprise) that... wait, wait... flashes a blinky red light when you squeeze it!! Oh, boy, NCC! I'll sure be safe now! I won't be like the guy on the back cover of the pamphlet who "stepped into an alley to relieve himself and was kidnapped and dismembered as a human sacrifice by a drug-smuggling cult." Yes, NCC, yes! I will be my own lifeguard, no matter HOW much I've had to drink! And I'll be sure to bring along... wait... what's the last thing in the bag? Oh yes. NCC- your inanity strikes again. It's a cheap Durex condom so brightly colored it must have been designed by or for 4 year olds. *sigh* Unless anyone speaks up soon, I'm grabbing the lip balm (and possibly the sun screen) and tossing this thing in the trash.

I think I may have overdone it a little bit this term. Maybe. Perhaps.

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 20:47:45 GMT

Tuesday: Take-Home Exam due.
Wednesday: Planned out my honors thesis, top topic priorities, and arranged the meeting schedule
Thursday (today): 7 page paper due
Friday: 10 page paper due
Monday: give 1 hour presentation
Tuesday: 10 page paper due
Wednesday: 15 page paper due

It can be spring break now?

Not Wasting Food Wastes Food

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 05:06:18 GMT

When will people, particularly women, realize that?

Yes, there are children starving in China. And you know what? They will STILL be starving even if you eat those last 20 bites on your plate that you're not really hungry for. They'll still be hungry if you finish off those french fries even if they're cold and soggy and they're making you feel bloated. YOU ARE NOT CHANGING THE WORLD BY FINISHING WHAT'S ON YOUR PLATE.

And you know what? You're not not wasting food by cleaning your plate. You're not putting food to good use by cleaning off your children or hubby's or boyfriend's plates either when they say 'eh, I'm done' and there's still perfectly good food left that you know they'll never re-heat.
And you know why? Because if you're like the vast majority of the population, you neither need nor want the extra calories. You don't want the calories that come from finishing off the toddler's hamburger, the child's mashed potatoes, the s/o's dessert.

Know what you will do because you cleaned the plates with your mouth? Hate yourself. Feel bloated. Stuffed. Teach your body that it'll be fed more than it should and that it should learn to like it. Possibly have a spurt of furious, excessive effort in a- what?- desperate attempt to get rid of the food you ate. You know, the food you ate so that it wouldn't be wasted.

Know what else? When we stop to think about it, we know that eating this extra food isn't doing us any good. And yet we still do it. WHY?

What unhealthy, self-destructive impulse convinces us that we need to do bad things to our bodies just so we can say that we aren't wasting something? To eat what we don't want or need or have room for because someone else has refused to eat something that they don't want or need or have room for? Why are we doing the eating?

Why do we do it at all? Why don't we give a brief lecture on the sizes of eyes versus stomachs and have them properly dispose of the food (using a compost if applicable)? Why do we think that people who don't eat more than they should are somehow being frivolous, wasteful, feckless, indifferent to the world/environment/poor starving children/whatever when they recognize their limits and refuse to conform to the massive, super-sized portions served them? Why is it not okay to say "oops, I took too much, sorry I can't finish it but I'm FULL"?

WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 02:51:20 GMT

Why I think a certain one of my relatives needs to find a hobby or two. Her friends as well.

Below is a short list of SOME of the most outstanding subject headers of SOME of the e-mails she's forwarded to me in the past WEEK, with occasionally a bit about the actual e-mail. *sigh* Disclaimer: I've taken out the numerous "Fw:FW:fwd:fwd" that's usually there and most admit that I'm glad she's finally figured out how to BCC stuff so that everyone's e-mails aren't all over the internet. I also managed to convince her at the family reunion this summer that I do NOT want to receive political e-mails AT ALL. Not that I don't love a good joke or biting satire, but 90% of it was from her brother and of the rabid "OH NO- MEXICANS!" variety. I think the list below is roughly half of the e-mails she's sent in the last 7 days. Since she seems to have so much fun reading online, perhaps I should introduce her to e-books or something as I *assume* she reads these things all the way through before sending them on.

"Aprons: do kids even know what they are anymore?"
"Why Daddy Shouldn't Buy Baby Clothes" Complete with pictures of crude slogans!
"The Pastor and the Congregation" condom jokes- whoo
"OOPS- WHY MEN CAN PEE STANDING UP"
"Check out what an unhappy woman can do"
"Now THAT's Drunk"
"A Dead Duck" subtitle: "The Duck and the Devil"
"Alert: FBI issues Valentine's Day Email Warning - Not A Hoax"
"Dirt Roads" here's the lovely first stanza: "What's mainly wrong with society today is that too many Dirt Roads have been paved. There's not a problem in America today, crime, drugs, education, divorce, delinquency that wouldn't be remedied, if we just had more Dirt Roads, because Dirt Roads give character.""Yes, he was wearing a helmet (graphic photo's)"

The best way to defeat something is to use it

Mon, 03 Mar 2008 23:57:51 GMT

Your homework for today: go look at this It's got lots of flash player and powerpoint viewer forms but I thought pdf would be fairly quick and easy for most people. If I was a teacher, I would spend a period just presentating this.

All GWS issues aside, I really, really like its presentations for its method. No, not the high visual-low text ratio that still manages to be clear, educational, and informational, although is something I really wish some of the presenters in my classes would remember. No, it's in the way that it directly uses the media, stances, attitudes, actions, and thoughts of what it is arguing. No straw man, no hyperbole, no exaggeration. No extensive descriptions of images with no visual back-up or proof. No reshaping the opponent's arguments and taking their arguments to absurdium, no straw men, etc, etc, etc. Just plain simple responses and clear portrayals of what they're arguing against. Aaah, truth, logic, and media images. :)

Life too busy

Thu, 28 Feb 2008 05:43:42 GMT

Papers, papers, papers, surprising myself with how sleep deprived I am, something smells like brownies, I'm SO tired, wedding stuff, apartment stuff, moving, driving, cleaning, packing, research, citing, yadda yadda. I've had so many good posts go through my head, only to forget them completely a few hours later although I owe Fred a "one more reason why I know he's wonderful" post because of a really weird conversation we had the other night about some of the ideas in the movie "Kinsey" about insecurity and how it relates to possessiveness. I swear he could have passed for a speech com. or english major when he talked about expanding definitions. :) Speaking of which, I wonder when Fred was going to tell me he closed down his MySpace account? Meh. I was never going to go on there and I doubt he was using it anyway.

The student presentation in my sexuality class today was on sex education, age appropriateness, in schools, the abstinence debacle, etc. One of the education majors doing the talk even made up fake breasts and testicles for sample self exams. Which is wholly irrelevant if it wasn't for rosalarian2's (no, I don't know her, I just read her webcomic) newest post asking for sound effect advice. And all I can see about THAT is that it's a really, REALLY good thing I didn't know about this website when I was an angry, angry teenager. It would have been.... bad. :-) Fred? Next time you get around to catching up on my LJ, you want to testify as to what an angry teenager I was? Yes? No?

So... sleepy... I think I'm going to pass up tweaking my paper in favor of getting 10 hours of sleep tonight and tomorrow morning. My mom and I were on the phone for ages this evening when all we really had to talk about took about 5-10 minutes. Somebody felt like rambling tonight.... and those of you who've hung around my mom a lot know how she is when she gets tired. Can you say interesting conversations about how much "easier" it would be on Fred somehow if I wore 4 inch heels to the wedding? Yah. Speaking of, I can't believe the number of people who think we're "adorable" simply because of the tremendous height difference, as if I am simultaneously cuter because of how tiny I look and Fred is somehow more sensitive and "awww, that's so sweet" because he's fallen for a tiny little thing who only LOOKS like a tiny little thing when she's standing next to him. Huh. What's odd is that the size differential means that Fred fulfills one of my needs in a partner so thoroughly that people think it goes to the other extreme i.e. "he's so big compared to you!" with the implication that he has to be careful around delicate little me so he doesn't hurt me by accident. Hah! Those who know me well know the reality: Fred was the first guy to come around who *I* wasn't worried about hurting. I tend to be physically demonstrative and affectionate and expressive and- screw it let's just say I'm majorly fond of huge hugs- and there's a lot of guys out there whose little masculine egos get hurt if some little shrimp of a girl (even if it's a little shrimp of a girl with big muscles who can run ten miles!!) hugs them too hard. They also seemed to have a problem with a girl with muscles, too. Ick. Stupid boys. Fred=the win.

Not that I haven't hurt him by accident, of course. Flying tackles can hurt anyone if they're caught off guard particularly if wearing a heavy backpack gives me way more momentum and force than I think I have. And before that, I only really tackled Tim-Tim (who's much stronger than he looks but I generally try to be at least a little careful with him, unless he starts winning of course) so at times in the beginning I would misjudge size and knee him by accident. *shame shame shame*

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, I'm making NO sense and I think I'm just gonna go to bed and if you read this you're probably one of a very, very few because I have a feeling I'll take this down when I wake up later and realize just how goofy it really is. Soooooo..... tired..........

Been reading more of XKCD lately. Gave up on trying to go through the archives and just been hitting "random" instead. Today it gave me:
Human sized hamster ball
Playpen balls! Who says what a grown-up is?

It's up

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 17:28:11 GMT

Massively edited, shortened, sentences put in the wrong place, everything about the discrimination policy taken out because there's just not enough "back-up" to verify it, different address to the whole thing, wrong class, etc etc. But it's up. It's there. Maybe someone will read it, maybe someone will care.

Chocolate and Change!

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 05:29:19 GMT

Whoo! Busy day here, which I'm going to try to regurgitate quickly because it's going to be a VERY busy night.

Lacie dog actually let me sleep in until 9-something which felt very, VERY good. Internet at her house was being icky so there is a mostly-finished e-mail to my auntie waiting to go through because I was fixing the network instead of finishing it before chapel this morning.
Chapel THIS week went just peachy and the speaker was fascinating, she's the key-note speaker in the article I'll post later on.
My friend Brittany (bridesmaid #2) went with me to the print shop to pick up the flyers for an art showing to "celebrate the lives of women in art and history" that's next week (have I mentioned that I have a cool job?) and we talked about deep, important stuff. Like sex. Mostly, though, about high school and mopey times and trying to be warm and encouraging because she's going to her grandpa's visitation (funeral? not sure which) tomorrow.

Nice afternoon, wandering around campus putting flyers up. Was a bit nippy and uncomfortable being out, even well bundled as it was quite mild this morning so I hadn't brought my EXTRA extra layers but it was better than it's been so I tried to stay positive. Before that, though, I stopped by my dorm real quick to grab my winter leggings and the rest of the research books I need for the paper I'm doing tonight. Tucked my little car into one corner of the drive they have just for that purpose to make sure even big nasty trucks could get by, turned the blinkers on, and dashed up the stairs. Just meant to run in and out but it took me a few minutes to pack up all the books, yell at a poster for falling down, and head back down the four flights of stairs. Then I got grabbed by someone for a few minutes of conversation. And you know what that means? That I was inside the dorm for (gasp!!) SEVENTEEN minutes. And you know what that means? A CITATION! Huh buh what? You know, I am the insane, picky person who actually reads the little advisory handouts, warnings, instructions, etc you get with stuff and I was extra super uber careful to read all the rules and regulations when I got my parking sticker. And nowhere, NOWHERE did it say that they will charge you $20 if you leave your car with the blinky's on in a non-parking space for longer than 15 minutes. Grr, mutter, sputter. I'm annoyed enough that I'm planning on writing a check, sticking it in an envelope, and dropping it in the campus mailroom because I think if I go to the office directly to process it, I will start ranting and complaining. And even if it's valid, it's not a good idea because the officers are generally quite nice (although massive sticklers on a massive amount of issues) and they've never once given me a hard time about giving me a ride when it's -20 degrees out and I am a long, long way from my dorm.

Quick trip home to Lacie to play with her and give her an early supper then back to NCC for the beginning of a really cool forum on social change and entrepreneurship. The speakers were not nearly as old or stuffy as all their fancy credentials make them sound. Fantastic dinner following the first 3 and at which I got to catch up with a lot of my old MALS buddies who I haven't seen for awhile as I'm only taking one grad. class this entire year. Only got to hear the first fascinating half hour of the headliner speaker but that was okay because she gave a really interesting talk at chapel this afternoon (yes, I went back there), including how she was offered a job AT her graduation ceremony solely based on her commencement speech. The person who hired her? Undersecretary general for humanitarian affairs. For the U.N. Wow. So at 24 she found herself in a distant, undeveloped part of Somalia encased in a bulletproof vest and helmet and in charge of coordinating humanitarian aid for the one million people in the region. Whoa.

One thing one of the big main coordinators of the event mentioned (also the guy in charge of my MALS program) was that what really struck him about people was if they were a force. He used that term for the head speaker tonight and also for some of the other people I work with (I only caught part of the conversation but in the bit I was a part of, he was applying it to a female colleague of his). And then he turned me to and told me that I had the potential to be a force, a real force, as well. And it just kinda hit me and stayed there. brassknight86, he was speaking your language. And it made me wonder. And think. And ponder. And ruminate on ideas and possibilities and plans and avenues and how differently I feel when I'm left entirely in charge of something. Hum. A force. Definitely a tempting description.

Why did I leave early? NCC's College Scholars program was having an event (they try and have one serious/educational and one fun/social event each term). This one was fun AND educational 'cuz it's an honors program and they believe in stuff like that and had more of a warm spirit of sharing than actual socializing time. Because *dun dun dun* any student in the program who paid $5 by the allotted time got to go to an interactive lecture. And my "lecture," I mean cool talk on the history and manufacturing of..... chocolate. And by "interactive" I mean we got to try the speaker's favorite examples of white, milk, and dark chocolate (one each). And by speaker, I mean the founder of www.chicagochocolatetours.com, an absolutely mouthwatering site and business idea. She was a Harvard-educated lawyer who was absolutely sick of the daily grind and absolutely infatuated with chocolate. Seriously, this woman is absolutely crazy about it (and I thought *I* was bad!). Her big project coming up is her company's first ever "Cocoa Cruise" to tour some of Europe's best chocolate shops. Just 3 tiny little pieces but eating them felt far, far more decadent than a monstrous ice cream sundae. My favorite was the White Chocolate Truffle by Lindt- so sweet, SO creamy and smooth and she explained why exactly it is that so much white chocolate tastes so bleh (vegetable oil instead of real cocoa butter). There was a peanut butter bon bon by Vosges, which was absolutely fascinating- there was a tiny bit of a special coarse salt sprinkled on the outside that made the whole thing taste... bright... somehow. And 100% organic. The dark chocolate was filled with whipped hazelnut cream and I do generally appreciate hazelnut but I love dark chocolate so much MORE that it kinda took away from it for me. *sigh* It has been a real, real hardship to stop drooling over the chocolate of the month club. On a plus note, I think it'll be awhile before I have a taste for any average form of chocolate such as Hershey's or Nestle. I have been truly spoiled tonight. Oh yes.

But now I'm at work and I need to get TO work. "Women in Refrigerators" was a shocking distraction but I've put it away, especially because I know I'll have to do some asking around to have everyone on the character list identified to me- I'm just not too up to date on comics, despite my love for Sandman and Strangers in Paradise. I have a big paper "due" tomorrow. As in, I'm telling myself it's due even though it's really the rough draft and he said it's okay to have middle sections consist of "this will be 1 page on this, this and this" and "this will be 4 paragraphs on such and so" as long as our introduction and conclusion are really good. So I'll do them first to make sure they're really solid and focused (and hopefully to help me make the middle part solid and focused too because I have a tendency to start out with one thesis and end up with another) but I am planning on doing the entire middle portion tonight. Because a) it's less work to do later; b) although this week's been way busy I can't complain because I haven't had a big paper or exam in another class; c) the next two weeks will be stressful enough without this hanging over my head; d) I'm worried that if I fill in portions later that they won't be as good so I won't do as well; e) this will allow me just to get all my ideas and possibilities of avenues and pathways and arenas of exploration and analysis out there and have the guy who knows what he's doing tell me which ones he's actually looking for but f) mostly because there's a chance I may be MAKING MAJOR CHANGES finals week of this term and I want as little other clutter and stuff to do as possible. It's much easier to edit and tweak something, cutting here, clarifying there, adding a quote or two elsewhere, than to "flesh things out" based on some fluffy and ambitious notes you've written.

So it'll be a long night for me tonight (I have a can of Diet Coke all ready for when I get back) but it'll be okay. Unless the student presentation in Human Sexuality is REALLY boring tomorrow I'll be fine- Feminist Perspectives will mostly be a recap/exploration of the issues and concepts discussed tonight and in U.S. Social Movements we'll be going 'oh man! we just wrote/outlined 15 page papers! and now you're giving us a QUIZ' which will also be okay because we know what it's on and what we need to have prepared (20 minutes preparation, tops). So cross your fingers, wish me luck, say a prayer, whatever you like, I'm off to work!

Some fluff to counterbalance the recent posts

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 07:39:41 GMT

Although I realize there are inherent possibilities for bitterness given the subject matter.

I had a date last Thursday, for the first time in 3 years.

I spent all last week cleaning and straightening and organizing and scrubbing. Nothing to trip over, or cause sneezes or confusion or the slightest lack of room. All my hair swept off the floor, the mud off the hallway, the papers in the desk and the clothes in the closet with the food. It felt more like a ritual of preparation than anything else, a time to relax and re-center and focus and quietly anticipate. Also to listen to a purely Alice Cooper playlist for the first time, leads to interesting dynamics.

It also marked a first since my "DON'T CARE" decision of last Christmas. I'd never cared much for the opinions of others although in some sensitive issues I can't stand being misinterpreted or having the wrong assumptions made. But this time I decided that the opinions of those closer to mine were hindering and inhibiting me as well and I was tired of it. I no longer have any regard for the appearance of propriety, along propriety itself. Someone wants to get the wrong impression because Fred and I spent several nights curled up on the floor last December? Fine. I no longer care. It was cold and uncomfortable and having someone cozy and warm next to me was all that let me sleep. I will no longer make elaborate, inconvenient plans just so no one can charge that Fred and I are "spending the night together." I. Don't. CARE. If anyone, even my dearest relatives and well-meaning loved ones, persists in thinking I'm a hypocrite or that I would change all my standards, values, and covenants just because I fell in love, then it's their loss for clinging closer to their own judgments than to what they know about me. And no, Auntie N, I have no one person in mind, just the general attitude that every single thing I/we do must be entirely blameless for people to believe the truth and therefore earn everyone's respect in some bizarre way. I see no point in proving the truth any longer, which is why I made no desperate attempts at assurance regarding sleeping arrangements when I saw you last month. It's a personal decision and I've grown increasingly uncomfortable with how focused everyone else seems to be on whether or not I've changed my mind in the past 5 years. Admittedly, it's partly my fault for making such a humongous adolescent stink over my conviction, but ah well.

Headed out early, early Thursday morning. Tired and a bit hungry but so hopeful and excited. Met just across the Iowa border, at the Subway attached to a nice little grocery store. Hug. Hughughughughughug. Hug, little kiss, and not being allowed to peek in the van. It was so good to sit down at a table and eat with people I loved. When we had a minute, I ducked into the store to visit their $1 aisle where, among other things, they offer a 7 ounce bar of dark chocolate. I always get one when I stop there. Finally said farewell to my dad after many hugs and the careful transfer into my car of.... a big white bag! Attached to a box! It came with a card, the contents of which I won't repeat here as they were so sweet they'd melt my computer. The white bag hid 12 red things that I wasn't allowed to unwrap until after the trip was done but I knew. I smiled and teased Fred about the chicken and the egg question. My mom had been in smiles early this week because of the gorgeous bouquet of roses, one color blending into the other with gold streaks, that had showed up for her at work as the 12th is more important to my parents than the 14th. I also felt a bit guilty over not finding him something although he quickly reminded me that it worked out because we had also not talked about gifts last year and yet a warm and fuzzy package had shown up for him anyway. Realized that I'd forgotten our V-day card for my parents back in my dorm as it had been carefully put away the night before and not remembered in the morning but I made sure to give it to my dad on Sunday with our signatures inside. Fred got his card Sunday as well although that was mostly because the weekend distracted me so much from giving it to him sooner.

Got back too late to make the service that was the cause of all the hub-bub. Instead, we settled his things in and I unwrapped my pretties (I miss having rose bushes so much!!!) before I headed out to get my blood drawn. Many more walk-ins than expected but I had an appointment and all the tingly excitement meant I bled fast, particularly after I got a gut-reaction report of the talk from my Kindling editor (NCC's humor magazine, also at thekindling.blogspot.com). Rested a long while, then Fred decided to revive me with lots of chicken and noodles at Noodles & Company followed up by a scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough from Cookie Dough Creations. We were both pretty exhausted from the trip and preparations (he had schoolwork to make up ahead of time, I had turned in a big paper on Wednesday).

Class early on Friday, which focused on trauma (the service) and tragedy (NIU- which I'd driven past TWICE the day before). Everyone we know okay, including one of our groomsmen but a friend of a dear friend was friends with the killer and is beyond devastated with guilt and grief and confusion. Then rushing to Wesley for a pre-marital counseling session with Jason (man, that sounds way scary!). Fred had mostly filled Pastor Jason in already, and the pastor emeritus who baptized me had been personally filled in by the chaplain himself. Pastor Jason made lots of 'from one girly man to another' jokes that eased my inner tension and reminded me again of how grateful I am to find the church home I did. And the music for the ceremony is much closer to being settled. And so far we're specializing in a surprisingly low amount of red flags that need to be discussed for the ceremony but not for want of wanting to make sure the pastor knows all the skeletons ahead of time.

Rushed back to class which was interesting but horrible. They didn't have the doors to the outside open today, and even with the classroom doors open and the fan running, I still felt so close to passing out that I had to first move closer to the door and then leave 2/3 of the way through class to prop open the building's doors to the outside in the freezing cold. All this because of the ancient heating system that puts the massive labs in the basement as top priority. Next class was okay, I guess, but felt like a waste of time that I could have spent hanging out with Fred. Very worried about the pretty girl next to me as her grandpa wasn't in good shape (he passed away on Sunday) and mopey future bridesmaids are very sad things indeed.

Met up with Fred as he returned from hanging out with a buddy of his (the other groomsman) and we headed out to look at an apartment off 59. Nope. Was not working for us, and not just because of the microscopic counter tops. Only good part was curling up on their cushy couches in the lobby while we waited for our turn. Simple snuggles, and I still melt completely when my hair's played with. Was supposed to head out to see the place of Kelly (Fred's "fourth sister" in actuality a distant cousin who's also had "close friend of the family" status for a long long time)'s grandpa up in LaGrange but he had taken off to see the auto show. We had dinner with her instead at a really neat place called Wolf's Head Inn where the furniture and eclectic yet engaging (dare I say educational?) decor made things fun. Kelly was worn out and had to work EARLY in the morning so we headed back and crashed around 9:30. Oh yes, we're that boring. 9:30 on a Friday night on the first weekend we've had to ourselves in a long while.

Saturday morning we woke at a decent hour because of our early bedtime and spent our time watching stuff, giggling, and being absolutely, unabashedly, goofy. Hung out with one of Fred's friends and one of their friends until Kelly got off work and felt stiff, staid, boring, and far too old. Randomly going to places or visiting only a certain 3 stores in the mall, all with the intention of not seriously looking at anything just doesn't do anything for me although I was happy to find "The Stories of Eva Luna" (sequel to Eva Luna, which I'm reading in one of my GWS classes) even though I didn't buy it.

The apartment? Wow. Yes, it was in the middle of repairs and fixing-up and Kelly's grandpa was massively annoyed that the previous tenant had put berber down in the living room and master's bedroom, covering up the beautiful real oak floor that was still in the 2nd bedroom. And no, it wasn't because of the full-length mirror in the hall, the tremendous cabinet and counter space (you can tell it was made in the days when people cooked big meals, instead of the other one which had a bigger microwave than it did a dishwasher), or the cabinets above the closets in the bedrooms. It definitely wasn't the view of the parking lot from the big window. Nevertheless, it felt.... right. Very, very right. 1/2 block from the train that would take me directly to school, a few blocks from a pleasant downtown district, not nearly as commercialized and full of chains as Naperville's, and 6-8 blocks from their new library. Kelly's going to see about picking up an official rental agreement this week for us.

Even though it was still early, grandpa insisted he had eaten already so we met Kelly's dad for dinner and a yummy Italian place because the boy was craving pizza. Laughing and good company. From there we went straight to Lacie's house to give her her dinner as well and pamper her a bit. Packed up Fred's things and stayed in the spare bedroom at Lacie's house. Another early night.

Sunday promised from the start to be every bit as nasty as predicted. I started hoping Fred and my dad would stay in town an extra few hours in the hope that the worst would go through before they hit the roads. It was so, so very nice to have loved ones to sit with during church, although there are no shortage of sweet church people who are always more than happy to adopt me for the hour. As Fred and my dad usually sit next to each other during church, they seated themselves one on either side of me. I felt like I had 2 very large and affectionate but protective bodyguards but it tends to produce more of the sensation of being cuddled close rather than what would probably be a more typical annoyance at their protectiveness and tendency to stick close. I felt missed and wanted and cared for and my heart smiled with how well Fred and my dad have bonded and connected in the past few years. No competing for attention, no sense of one-upmanship, no feelings of rejection because of the way my relationship with both has grown since high school. I'm blessed.

Lunch at Chipotle (so much nice food this weekend though it came in manageable quantities and with plenty of time in between). Tremendous rainbursts while we were eating but the reports saying it'd turn to ice in a few hours weren't enough to deter my dad, although I think they both realized they wouldn't be able to make it all the way back to Iowa. Said good-bye outside my car at the church's parking lot with the usual, tremendous, gut-wrenching sense of pain, loss, and abandonment that always accompanies such departures, only made all the more painful by the fact that this sensation was, in fact, "usual." One month til I can see them again, one more month until real, close hugs and smiles from people who truly love me, one more month before I can not only feel at home but physically be there as well. Fred held me so close before he left that it felt like we were thinking and feeling as one.

Went back to Lacie's where I distracted myself with the commitment to tell all about my weekend, thwarted and discouraged by the hiccup in the modem that took two hours to diagnose and fix, by which time I was thoroughly unmotivated. Quick nap and then I distracted myself alternately with fond memories of the weekend and worry about driving conditions. They did stop for the night at Iowa City. Monday it took them somewhere between 4-6 hours to make the last 90 miles back to Des Moines. Apparently the roads were covered with a thick, chunky ice all the way from Iowa City to Grinnell with no signs of it being cleared or salted. Nasty, nasty weather. Lacie's attempts to be comforting and cuddly were frequently thwarted by her crusades against the squirrels.

Speaking of, my legs are aching and asleep because she's been plopped on my lap the entire time. Even my hair smells like dog right now. It's late, I should go and get sleep or at the least stop typing until I can spend awhile figuring out why my zzzzzzzzzzz key is stuck. Long day tomorrow, particularly if I decide to submit an abstract for NCC's big research and project symposium and commit to presenting my honors thesis either as a poster board (doubtful that it'd translate well unless I used a lot of art inspired by Antigone) or an actual formal presentation (more nerve-wracking). Maybe if I let the Schnauzer dog out one last time, she won't wake me up in the morning. :) A girl can dream, yes? Ah, dreams. That intangible, immaterial, tantalizing stuff I rely on to get me through this next month.

I really hope I don't have much homework tomorrow.

This weekend brought to you by bunnies and the letter 6!