November 26, 2002

A weird Thanksgiving

Going home for the Thanksgiving Holiday. I don't know how I feel about that. It won't really be a holiday --I have too much work to do. And this will be the first Thanksgiving at Nanna and Poppy's house where Nanna and Poppy won't be there. The house will be empty... their things will be there, though. Their pictures, decorations, furniture, clothes... but not themselves. The end of this year will be somewhat of a relief I think. This year gone, another one starting. I need that. I think we all need that.

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November 25, 2002

Quick weekend recap

Quick weekend recap: Friday night went to the art opening at Fawick. Great art, vegetarian food, few people. It was snowing in Cleveland, and I guess the masses didn't feel like going out. Drove home late Friday night. My dad made me dinner and offered to wash my clothes... now that's the life. Stayed up late to make signs for my sister's ecology club flower sale. Saturday morning woke up at the butt crack of dawn to go see my cousin play his last football game of the season for Miami University. The drive was terrible and the game was a bust, but it was cool to see him play. I met his next dorm neighbor, who happens to have a cute brother. Sunday I slept until 12:30 in the afternoon. I got my stuff ready for school, stopped at the store to buy some salad, then drove to my dorm to have Thanksgiving dinner with my floor. Food was great, even the turkey (which is cool considering nobody knew how to cook one). Now I'm sitting here wishing I didn't have class at 9 am. Another week.

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November 20, 2002

The way we should live life

This semester I've had the chance to get really in-depth with my studies in psychology, and this year I've been getting into the nitty gritty of my major. In Learning, my class briefly covered some paradoxical effects in rat learning (PREE, MREE, SNCE, PDREE, VMREE). I felt smart having all that jargon in my vocabulary. But About half an hour ago, I got schooled about some paradoxical effects in human emotion and attitude (ASS KICKING RESOLVE).

About an hour ago, woman in my Abnormal Psychology class was asking me some questions about what she missed last time. We started talking a bit, and I found out that she has bone cancer. I had no idea --she never mentioned it before, and she always seemed to be the most energetic, hapy-go-lucky person. She told me that 2 1/2 years ago she was told by her doctor that she had six months to live, but that she wouldn't accept that prognosis. Too much to do, too many places to go, too many things to experience. Her hair fell out, half her days were spent puking, and she was glued to her bed for an intolerably long time. But even in the middle of chemo treatments for her "terminal" cancer, she remained adamant about her decision to stick around for graduation (and beyond).

I don't think her doctor would have believed then that three years later she would be getting her college diploma. This chick has balls, plain and simple. Right now I'm trying to figure out how to apply this made-for-tv story to my own life. I don't know how to do that yet, but I can't let myself forget about this awesome chick that arm wrestled death to shame. It's just too good of a story.

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November 19, 2002

Trial by fire

Trial by fire. That's exactly what these last few months have been... Between the stress of research and work, and the looming presence of grief, I don't know how the heck I'm still sane. I'm sick of going to funerals and writing condolence cards. I'm not good at dealing with emotional things like that. Yesterday, my roommate's grandfather died after a battle with cancer. It seems like everyone's grandparents died in the last few months. First Nanna, then Poppy, now Steph's grandfather. I know she was upset last night, and I wasn't sure exactly what to say, other than to remember what Valerie said in church a few weeks ago about when people die. That day she reflected in her sermon on the brevity of this life and the eternity of the next. I think it was perfect timing. Poppy died the next day, and now Stephanie's grandfather. But even after hearing comforting words, it's incredibly draining. Everyone is drained.

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Getting older

As I get older, I'm finding it harder and harder to make nice with stupid people. Just an observation.

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November 17, 2002

Gotta love college

I love college. I really do. It's given me a chance to expand my horizons (yadda yadda yadda) and it has helped me grow as a person. But one thing I do not like about college life is having the misfortune of getting annoying dorm neighbors. Up until this semester, I have been pretty lucky with the room assignments --everyone has been relatively respectful. But this year I've been unlucky enough to have a childish liar sharing a wall with me. A girl who threw rocks at a friend's window, then denied it. A girl who banged on our wall, yelled at us to be quiet, then denied it. A girl who sings god-awful Celine Dion songs at the top of her lungs. I'm finding it so difficult to be nice to her, which I know is the right thing to do. Loving your neighbor has never been so excruciating. But everytime I remind myself to be civil, I feel live incredible urge to tell her I wish she would move. I just don't like her.

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November 14, 2002

Nerdhood

Since I'm a nerd, I often think about things that a lot of people ignore. I've often wondered where the word faggot came from. Well, today I found out from my incredibly intelligent roommate. Back in the good ol' days of English witch-burning, the bundles of sticks used to light the fires were called faggots. Since gay people were also believed to be evil, they were bundled up with the sticks used to start the witch-burning fires. Something to think about.

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New classes

My advisor just confirmed my schedule for next semester:

1. Research Methods II
2. Sensation and Perception
3. History & Systems of Psychology
4. Professions in Psych
5. Baroque Dance
6. Astronomy of the stars

I'm already freaking out about the first two.

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Frosh friends and their problems

I'm helping my freshman friend move out next week. She was unlucky enough to get stuck with two psycho roomies, both of whom have been extremely nasty to her since the first week of school. I can't imagine how much that must suck, to have to live with people like that. I'm glad my roomie is so amazingly awesome (yes I am kissing up).

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November 12, 2002

...who shall remain nameless (yet obvious)

And that means YOU (you know who you are).

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Awwww

I just watched my cousin's football team on espn in a heartbreaking last-second loss. Yeah actually I don't care much for football, but it sucked watching them lose with five seconds on the clock. I only caught the fourth quarter, so I didn't see my cousin play, but when his mug flashed on the screen for two seconds after the end of the game all my friends got excited (since I am now related to a national sports celebrity). Not really. But I have nothing more interesting to blog about. Some people on my floor kinda want me to do a hook-up for them. I will never do such a thing. Stop asking me.

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November 08, 2002

Distress defined

dis�tress Pronunciation Key (d-strs) tr.v. dis�tressed, dis�tress�ing, dis�tress�es

1. To cause strain, anxiety, or suffering to. See Synonyms at trouble.

2. Law. To hold the property of (a person) against the payment of debts.

3. To mar or otherwise treat (an object or fabric, for example) to give the appearance of an antique or of heavy prior use: �There are the fakesnew rugs which have been intentionally distressed for an older look� (Hatfield MA Valley Advocate).

4. Archaic. To constrain or overcome by harassment.

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I hate this semester

This week has sucked in a way that few weeks in the last year has sucked before. I'm going home. The funeral is tomorrow.

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November 07, 2002

Making an ass of myself

On Tuesday before I left to go home, I stopped in Dr. V's office to hand in my paper. I told him I wouldn't be in class that night. He asked why, and I told him. And, like an idiot, I start crying... one of those cries that causes you to make funny faces. The kind you get pissed at yourself for because you're in public and you can't even control your breathing pattern. I hate that. We went to his office to discuss my exam, but I made some stupid excuse about having to be somewhere. It was embarrassing, breaking down like that. But I feel bad for him too... I think I kinda ambushed him. I know he wasn't expecting that. Anyways, I'm glad that class is only once a week, and that I don't have to see him until next Tuesday. Dammit I hate crying public.

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November 04, 2002

Rest in peace, Poppy

Poppy died half an hour ago. Looks like he & Nanna could not stand to be apart very long. The funeral is Friday.

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Going home to see Poppy

I went home yesterday because Sarah told me that Poppy was going into surgery... he's been sick the last few days. We were all sitting in the ICU waiting room when Chris told us of the dream he had a few nights before. He dreamed that Nanna (who died September 8th) showed up in the doorway in a blue dress, and told Poppy she was coming to take him because she didn't want to be alone anymore. Poppy got up and went with her. When he woke up, he told his wife about the dream. A little while later they got the phone call that Poppy was not doing well and was in the hospital.

As soon as he was out of surgery, we went in to see him. He seemed much more frail than he was only a couple of weeks ago, but he was stable. Today Sarah called me and said his kidneys have failed, and there is little the doctors can do for him. He's going to be taken off of the respirator tonight, and will probably not make it more than a few hours. Life is so fleeting... so damn fleeting. I can say, though, that it is only appropriate that Nanna and Poppy go together; they spent their entire lives together. I'm pretty sure Nanna is anxiously awaiting for him this very second. I could only imaging what it must be like, to be on earth one second and heaven the next. I'll have to wait for a while, but Poppy's got only a few hours. He belongs there anyways.

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November 02, 2002

I love CMA

I love the Cleveland Museum of Art.

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November 01, 2002

Feeling distresse (yet again)

Tomorrow Steph and I are going to Cleveland Museum of Art for a couple of hours. I have to see in person the paintings that I'm writing my papers on. William Bouguereau's Rest, and Bassano's Lazarus and the Rich Man. But as much as I absolutely LOVE art, I mean love love love it to the point that I don't ever want to do anything else in my life ever ever ever, I just can't do this paper. How did my nerdy self go from getting perfect scores on exams I hate to fighting just to pass some class that I like? I can't write about art... I really can't. I just can't. FREAKING OUT. I am.

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