December 26 Soul Food
What did you eat this year that you will never forget? What went into your mouth & touched your soul?
The person who asked this question had no idea what she was in for.
It doesn't matter what I ate. I ate a lot of things. The size of my bottom reflects that. What matters is how food "touched my soul".
To some, that might be a good thing. I understand a lot of people have positive associations between their food and home life with family, or friends, or whatever. It's incredibly common for a flavor to bring memories flooding to the surface, and that's fine for most people.
I, however, am not most people.
Food only "touches my soul" in the sense that I use it to soothe emotions I should deal with in other ways. I want to STOP this. I need to change the way I view food. Mim told me a story once about how she used to love Moon Pies. She used to go get them with her family, and they were dirt poor so it was a very special (and rare) treat. Over the years she got Moon Pies all the time, and I'm sure they brought back awesome memories of good times with her family as a kid. But as she has been working on her eating and such, she's tried Moon Pies, and other foods she associates with good times, and realized that she doesn't even like the taste. And once she told me that story, I started thinking about my food memories. It turns out I don't even like pumpkin pie (if Mim knew that she'd swear I was adopted or something), but when we had Thanksgiving together as a family, and Dad was actually being pleasant and we had a good conversation, and I had pumpkin pie, I just felt like we were a real family and that felt really good. Years later, surprise surprise, I tried some pumpkin pie and realized that it just isn't that good to me.
I have a lot of foods that I only eat because of the memories. I don't even necessarily do it consciously. When I'm upset (or bored, or depressed, or lonely, or tired, or...) and all I want to do is stuff my face, I go back to those foods.
What I need to do is change the way I think about food. What is food to me now? Comfort. An excuse to gather together. Traditions. There are so many things food is to me that have nothing to do with keeping me alive. I'm not saying it's bad for someone to get together and have dinner with family or friends. I'm not saying that food traditions are bad, either. In fact, I think they can be wonderful. Because of several stupid little things, Christmas Eve cheeseburgers didn't happen this year. That's something we do every year, and I was really disappointed. And that's ok.
But I need to change the way I think, overall, about food. I need food to survive. Can that food be delicious? Absolutely. I really hope it is! But it needs to be healthy and limited. I don't need more than one serving. If I'm upset (or bored, or depressed, or...you know) I need to talk it out. If I'm angry, I've found in the past that going and getting some exercise helps me calm down (and I tend to get a very intense workout, too!). Think of how healthy my heart would be if instead of grabbing candy or baked goods (my kryptonite) when I need comfort, I would go get some exercise. My hips would thank me, too. The day I found out Dad was getting married, I was upset so I went to the gym and did six miles, and it felt amazing and empowering, and I had time to think all my angry thoughts and get it all out of my system (notice I called him Dad. He got me a very nice present for Christmas, and I've had time to cool down, so my heart's a bit softer today) (progress!).
It's a long journey, and it sucks most of the time, but I'll get there eventually.
Showing posts with label Memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Memories. Show all posts
Monday, December 27, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Reverb 10: Travel
December 22 Travel
How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year?
Well, seeing as I'm a total homebody and I've spent all my extra cash on my kitchen, I didn't really travel this year. I went to Lava Hot Springs with Mim, and we had pie, but I think that was about it.
This coming year I would like to take a vacation, if we can spare the cash and time. I think the problem with when Scott and I went to Vegas in 2009 was that we were trying hard not to spend money, so we didn't do a lot of things we could have done, had we budgeted better.
Scott and I are going to work very hard to eat right and exercise (I need to find some kind of exercise Scott won't loathe) and get into shape, and we'll save tons of money not eating out, so maybe we can actually plan something for later this year. Maybe.
Of course, this coming year we'll be paying for flooring and maybe we'll start in the basement. Expensiveness.
How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year?
Well, seeing as I'm a total homebody and I've spent all my extra cash on my kitchen, I didn't really travel this year. I went to Lava Hot Springs with Mim, and we had pie, but I think that was about it.
This coming year I would like to take a vacation, if we can spare the cash and time. I think the problem with when Scott and I went to Vegas in 2009 was that we were trying hard not to spend money, so we didn't do a lot of things we could have done, had we budgeted better.
Scott and I are going to work very hard to eat right and exercise (I need to find some kind of exercise Scott won't loathe) and get into shape, and we'll save tons of money not eating out, so maybe we can actually plan something for later this year. Maybe.
Of course, this coming year we'll be paying for flooring and maybe we'll start in the basement. Expensiveness.
Reverb 10: Future Self
December 21 Future Self
Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself ten years ago. What would you tell your younger self?)
I'm only four days behind. This is a Christmas Miracle!
Five years from now I'll be 29 (almost 30!) and (hopefully) we'll be on our next house flip.
Dear Me Now,
You know, I know right now things are stressful because this is your first remodel. It's exciting and you feel like a grown-up, but it's also stressful because you're going to make a few mistakes and there will be things you won't be happy with. The nice thing is that you're still going to make money off of the house you're in. Seriously, you've already increased the value of the house by thousands and thousands of dollars, and you haven't even started working on the basement. Take a chill pill. Enjoy the ride. And when you're done and you sell for a profit, go do something fun with a bit of the money you make.
Love,
Me in Five years
P.S. If things don't work out, it isn't the end of the world. Take another chill pill.
Ten years ago I was 14, nearing the end of my sophomore year of high school. I had a crush on a boy (over whom my best friend and I broke up), whom I ended up dating, then dumping because he was a total pothead.
Dear Me Ten Years Ago,
I know you're head over heels for him. I know he seems "deep" and he actually listens to what you have to say. But trust me, you're going to have to choose between him and your closest friend. It's juvenile, really, because she totally dated him behind your back before you dated him, even though she knew you liked him, and then when you date him you'll have to find a new place to sit at lunch, because she and all of her groupies will pretend you aren't there and you'll have to try hard not to cry. And after all that, you'll break up and she won't forgive you until you're signing yearbooks at the end of senior year, and even then she'll just stop hating you. You won't ever be friends again. All this being said, you'll probably ignore me and date him anyway, because you're a hopeless romantic and desperate to be loved, and on top of that you're a little boy crazy. At least you'll forever remember the smell of spearmint and pot very fondly...
Love,
Me Now (who finally has boys figured out)
Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself ten years ago. What would you tell your younger self?)
I'm only four days behind. This is a Christmas Miracle!
Five years from now I'll be 29 (almost 30!) and (hopefully) we'll be on our next house flip.
Dear Me Now,
You know, I know right now things are stressful because this is your first remodel. It's exciting and you feel like a grown-up, but it's also stressful because you're going to make a few mistakes and there will be things you won't be happy with. The nice thing is that you're still going to make money off of the house you're in. Seriously, you've already increased the value of the house by thousands and thousands of dollars, and you haven't even started working on the basement. Take a chill pill. Enjoy the ride. And when you're done and you sell for a profit, go do something fun with a bit of the money you make.
Love,
Me in Five years
P.S. If things don't work out, it isn't the end of the world. Take another chill pill.
Ten years ago I was 14, nearing the end of my sophomore year of high school. I had a crush on a boy (over whom my best friend and I broke up), whom I ended up dating, then dumping because he was a total pothead.
Dear Me Ten Years Ago,
I know you're head over heels for him. I know he seems "deep" and he actually listens to what you have to say. But trust me, you're going to have to choose between him and your closest friend. It's juvenile, really, because she totally dated him behind your back before you dated him, even though she knew you liked him, and then when you date him you'll have to find a new place to sit at lunch, because she and all of her groupies will pretend you aren't there and you'll have to try hard not to cry. And after all that, you'll break up and she won't forgive you until you're signing yearbooks at the end of senior year, and even then she'll just stop hating you. You won't ever be friends again. All this being said, you'll probably ignore me and date him anyway, because you're a hopeless romantic and desperate to be loved, and on top of that you're a little boy crazy. At least you'll forever remember the smell of spearmint and pot very fondly...
Love,
Me Now (who finally has boys figured out)
Monday, December 6, 2010
Reverb 10: Let Go
I'm a total slacker. I let this one go. Not one week into December and I've already slacked off.
But, in my own defense, I did read the prompt yesterday and immediately thought of two things that I could talk about, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go there for all the internet to see, so I decided I would answer it today, after I'd given it some thought. And, oh look, I thought of something else that I don't mind sharing with my little corner of the world.
December 5 Let Go
What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?
This year I let go of a lot of my anger regarding the things that have happened in my family in the past few years. I let go of a lot of my anger; that is to say, not all of it (that's gonna take a while).
So much has happened...and even though it happens time and again, when something happens to us we, as humans, are angry and can't even imagine that the anger will ever fade. It feels too real, too fresh, too biting. And that's okay. We're all human. The wonderful thing is, time heals wounds. It always has, no matter how deep.
So I let go of a lot of my anger regarding things Jason did, regarding the way life was at home growing up, regarding how unfair it sometimes seems that I'm the one stuck with this shortcoming or that illness or whatever it might be that's causing me to mope and feel sorry for myself. It didn't all go at once...it just kinda faded.
I mean, of course there are still times when I remember something specific and feel hurt all over again, which leads to anger, but each time this happens it's a little less intense, and I find myself calming down more quickly. I also find myself trying very hard to put myself in the shoes of whoever it is I'm angry with. I remember something someone did or said to me, and I try to think about what he or she must have been thinking or feeling, and I try to cut people some slack. I don't know what it's like to be somebody else, but I think about times when I've done or said something hurtful and nine times out of ten I really didn't mean it or maybe it was a complete accident and if it happens to me, I'm sure it happens to other people. I'm really trying to give others the benefit of the doubt.
Anyway. It's a work in progress, far from being finished. I'm sure it'll take years for everything to settle completely and for me to be able to move on, but I did a lot of moving on this past year. You should try it sometime. It's refreshing.
But, in my own defense, I did read the prompt yesterday and immediately thought of two things that I could talk about, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go there for all the internet to see, so I decided I would answer it today, after I'd given it some thought. And, oh look, I thought of something else that I don't mind sharing with my little corner of the world.
December 5 Let Go
What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?
This year I let go of a lot of my anger regarding the things that have happened in my family in the past few years. I let go of a lot of my anger; that is to say, not all of it (that's gonna take a while).
So much has happened...and even though it happens time and again, when something happens to us we, as humans, are angry and can't even imagine that the anger will ever fade. It feels too real, too fresh, too biting. And that's okay. We're all human. The wonderful thing is, time heals wounds. It always has, no matter how deep.
So I let go of a lot of my anger regarding things Jason did, regarding the way life was at home growing up, regarding how unfair it sometimes seems that I'm the one stuck with this shortcoming or that illness or whatever it might be that's causing me to mope and feel sorry for myself. It didn't all go at once...it just kinda faded.
I mean, of course there are still times when I remember something specific and feel hurt all over again, which leads to anger, but each time this happens it's a little less intense, and I find myself calming down more quickly. I also find myself trying very hard to put myself in the shoes of whoever it is I'm angry with. I remember something someone did or said to me, and I try to think about what he or she must have been thinking or feeling, and I try to cut people some slack. I don't know what it's like to be somebody else, but I think about times when I've done or said something hurtful and nine times out of ten I really didn't mean it or maybe it was a complete accident and if it happens to me, I'm sure it happens to other people. I'm really trying to give others the benefit of the doubt.
Anyway. It's a work in progress, far from being finished. I'm sure it'll take years for everything to settle completely and for me to be able to move on, but I did a lot of moving on this past year. You should try it sometime. It's refreshing.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
International Kwiddens Day
Dear Kwiddens,
It's your birthday! You're 22! I can't believe it! Well, I can, but it's still cool!
I hereby designate today "International Kwiddens Day". Everyone can celebrate your existence!
Kwiddens, you are very special to me (not the "stop eating paste" special) and I am lucky to have you in my life.
Remember that time when you threw a dead spider at me, but I didn't know it was dead and I freaked out and punched you and we both got in trouble?
Remember when we drove to school and there was a really old, leathery looking woman in a parka, and we couldn't stop laughing all the way to school because we thought she was an Eskimo?
Remember when the missionaries came over for dinner and you burst out laughing in the middle of dinner and it made me start laughing and we couldn't stop so we got sent to our room?
Remember when we used to run around the backyard with a jump rope, pretending you were a horse and I was a cowgirl, because a jump rope was all we had?
Remember when we used to ride our bikes to Falls Park every day and have a picnic for lunch and climb around on the rocks and pretend we were mountain goats?
I have so many awesome memories with you, and we keep making more.
You are beautiful, inside and out. You are smart, kind, witty, generous, and a wonderful mother with a beautiful baby (and how could she not be beautiful, since she's made of you?).
You understand what's going on in my head and I'm never embarrassed to tell you whatever is on my mind. You're full of good advice and free with your hugs, and you're one of my closest confidantes.
You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be treated like a queen. You deserve ice cream, because I said so.
I'll see you tomorrow when the whole family meets for your birthday dinner. We'll eat rolls and honey butter and the calories won't matter because we're celebrating your life (plus I'll go to the gym for a few hours to work it off...).
Keep getting older. It's kinda fun. Plus we all like having you around.
Love you Kwiddens!
-Your Sister, Nanners
It's your birthday! You're 22! I can't believe it! Well, I can, but it's still cool!
I hereby designate today "International Kwiddens Day". Everyone can celebrate your existence!
Kwiddens, you are very special to me (not the "stop eating paste" special) and I am lucky to have you in my life.
Remember that time when you threw a dead spider at me, but I didn't know it was dead and I freaked out and punched you and we both got in trouble?
Remember when we drove to school and there was a really old, leathery looking woman in a parka, and we couldn't stop laughing all the way to school because we thought she was an Eskimo?
Remember when the missionaries came over for dinner and you burst out laughing in the middle of dinner and it made me start laughing and we couldn't stop so we got sent to our room?
Remember when we used to run around the backyard with a jump rope, pretending you were a horse and I was a cowgirl, because a jump rope was all we had?
Remember when we used to ride our bikes to Falls Park every day and have a picnic for lunch and climb around on the rocks and pretend we were mountain goats?
I have so many awesome memories with you, and we keep making more.
You are beautiful, inside and out. You are smart, kind, witty, generous, and a wonderful mother with a beautiful baby (and how could she not be beautiful, since she's made of you?).
You understand what's going on in my head and I'm never embarrassed to tell you whatever is on my mind. You're full of good advice and free with your hugs, and you're one of my closest confidantes.
You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be treated like a queen. You deserve ice cream, because I said so.
I'll see you tomorrow when the whole family meets for your birthday dinner. We'll eat rolls and honey butter and the calories won't matter because we're celebrating your life (plus I'll go to the gym for a few hours to work it off...).
Keep getting older. It's kinda fun. Plus we all like having you around.
Love you Kwiddens!
-Your Sister, Nanners
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Please Remember
I remember on September 11, 2001 I was in choir class when I found out. The entire rest of the day nobody in the entire school did any work. We were so intent on watching and waiting, grasping for any news we could. I can remember not being sure it was real, like someone had to have come up with the most elaborate hoax in history.
I had a friend whose mother was supposed to be working in one of those buildings that day, out of town on a business trip. Someone was watching over her, because somehow she got into a minor car accident on her way to the building and was running late, and even a few minutes earlier she would have been gone.
Everyone in America had some kind of connection. There were so many people killed and hurt, and nearly everyone lost someone they knew, even someone they loved.
It is because of this that I support building a mosque near Ground Zero. Only by promoting religious freedom and tolerance will we be able to come together as a nation and do our best to prevent this from happening again. The world isn't perfect; it never will be. But every time we discriminate against people just because they're associated with the religion that the terrorists hide behind, all we're doing is adding to the chaos and fueling the terror.
Even though it was horrible, we have an opportunity to learn from the past. Sometimes that's all we can hope for.
I hope everyone finds a few minutes today for quiet reflection on what we lost, how we came together and became stronger, and how we need to continue to strive for harmony between people all around the world, no matter their race or religion.
I had a friend whose mother was supposed to be working in one of those buildings that day, out of town on a business trip. Someone was watching over her, because somehow she got into a minor car accident on her way to the building and was running late, and even a few minutes earlier she would have been gone.
Everyone in America had some kind of connection. There were so many people killed and hurt, and nearly everyone lost someone they knew, even someone they loved.
It is because of this that I support building a mosque near Ground Zero. Only by promoting religious freedom and tolerance will we be able to come together as a nation and do our best to prevent this from happening again. The world isn't perfect; it never will be. But every time we discriminate against people just because they're associated with the religion that the terrorists hide behind, all we're doing is adding to the chaos and fueling the terror.
Even though it was horrible, we have an opportunity to learn from the past. Sometimes that's all we can hope for.
I hope everyone finds a few minutes today for quiet reflection on what we lost, how we came together and became stronger, and how we need to continue to strive for harmony between people all around the world, no matter their race or religion.
Friday, September 10, 2010
What The Hell?!
My dad and I don't speak to each other. Occasionally I feel sad about this, because I think he used to love me, back when he adopted me, but now I think he feels the same way about me that I finally feel about him: I nothing him.
When I say I nothing him, it's like saying I hate him or I care about him or I (insert verb indicating feelings here) him. Except, I feel nothing toward him most of the time, so I nothing him.
Sometimes, though, I get angry and want to go punch his face in, because if I ever tried to tell him how I feel he would get angry and defensive and call me terrible names and such or he would just walk away, ignoring me completely. Really mature, right? Either way, he wouldn't even care to hear about it. But it's pretty hard to ignore a strong punch in the face.
My memories of my dad consist of three things:
5% Warm and fuzzy memories of when he actually listened to me or said something nice to or about me,
60% Not being home, out doing other things with other people, ignoring his family's emotional (and sometimes physical) needs,
35% Being home and yelling at or criticising me (or all of us) about something stupid that either isn't even true or is something no person in his right mind would get angry about (one time I got in huge trouble for getting ice out of the freezer without asking...not even kidding).
When I took the ACT and got a 34 (out of 36) he basically told me I was stupid and I should have done better. And for a while there, I did think I was stupid because I thought he was so smart and he knew so much about the world and the way things should be. Apparently, I was incredible naive. I pushed myself to my limits in school and got all sorts of awards along with my perfect grades and the mountains of extracurricular activities I put on my transcript, and he never acknowledged that I was doing well (Mim, however, was always very proud of me and supported me in everything I tried to do. Even gymnastics, which was a total failure, but she was proud of me for trying).
One of our running family jokes was that if something would make him mad, we would all get the silent treatment for exactly 3.5 days, to the hour. I'm not even kidding. It was so perfectly consistent that we actually found it funny. The exception was the summer before I left for college, when he refused to talk to Mim for three months, resulting in her breaking down and ending up in the psych ward for a week. He, of course, denies he ever did that. Now I find it both funny and pathetic (not the Mim in the hospital part, the 3.5 days part).
Sadly, he was such a "good person" in my eyes that I wanted to be just like him, so I immersed myself in religion and science and wanted to be a doctor just like him. It took me years to figure out that he is a selfish, arrogant, holier-than-thou, racist (very very racist) person, and once I realized that I was able to let go of a lot of things I had been very angry and hurt about. I even feel sorry for him sometimes. But, once again, for the most part I nothing him.
All this aside, the reason I sometimes get so angry at him is this:
He cheated on Mim and nearly destroyed our family. Em was so torn up about it she tried to commit suicide and ended up in the psych ward for a week (I'm thinking there's a pattern to this). Jorg lost his faith in God, because he prayed and prayed and prayed and God never answered his prayers that our family might somehow be mended. I had to deal with a lot of this during my first year of marriage, which was hard enough in and of itself, with my being sick and our being broke and my not being able to find a job. Mim was so heartsick she couldn't eat anything for months and lost about 50 lbs.
He used Kwiddens. She knew about the other woman and he was nice to her for the first time ever and so Kwiddens felt obligated to stay out of it and not tell Mim about the affair. He would have Kwiddens tell Mim he was hanging out with her when he was actually with the other woman. I used to be angry at Kwiddens for this but now I understand how horrible the whole situation was and that staying out of it was probably for the better.
Everyone in my family went through hell and a half.
So about the other woman: her name is Cambria (total stripper name...) and she was (get this): his patient. Ethics apparently be damned. Even to this day, he lies to all of us and claims they are "just friends", even though we all know from outside sources that they are engaged. That just drives me crazy: that he thinks we will just fall for his stupid lies, and that he's not man enough to admit that he's done something wrong, even when we all caught him with his hands in the cookie jar.
Every time I think I am over this, something new comes up. Usually it involves the way he treats Em, Jorg, and Kwiddens, especially Kwiddens. For some reason he has always had it out for her, ever since the day he married Mim. I had it bad, but she had it way worse. He picked on her relentlessly and I don't know how she gets past that on a daily basis. I understand that Kwiddens's getting pregnant wasn't the best thing to happen, but things happen and we move on and make the best of it, yes? Our whole family is now in love with this beautiful little baby and we are so proud of Kwiddens for making such a beautiful little baby and being an amazing mother, and we are happy to have Isaac in the family. All of us except for Dad. Dad now refuses to even speak to Kwiddens and has no desire to see the baby, which I find totally heartbreaking, because there will come a time when Nyah will ask, "Why don't I have two grandpas?" (or three, depending on if you count our BioDad) and someone will have to say "Well, he doesn't love you" (or something) (how would you even answer that question??).
So, something else happened that brought it all back and I feel like I have to start all over again.
Yesterday I found out that he's getting married. Tomorrow. He didn't bother to tell me, Kwiddens, or Mim. We only found out because he invited Em and Jorg.
I don't resent Em and Jorg at all for this. I'm even proud of them that they're mature and kind enough to rise above it all and wish him happiness. But I can't help but think that maybe if I were actually his biological child maybe he would love me enough to invite me to his wedding.
It seems I'm not meant to have a father figure in my life. I'm usually fine with that. But sometimes I get so jealous of people who spend time with their fathers and look up to and respect them. I just can't respect him. I think I might even stop calling him Dad. It seems harsh I suppose, but apparently he doesn't think of me as his daughter any more, so from now on, he's just Jason.
What a prick.
Also, you would not believe how many awful words I used in my first draft of this post. Extensive editing brought it back down to a PG-13 level.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Universe Wins Again
Singing has always been something I enjoyed immensely. I remember when I was very very small I had all the musical movies I watched memorized (The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, etc.) and I would sit around and play with toys and sing to myself. There even came a time when I wouldn't stop singing music from The Nightmare Before Christmas and it was driving Mim so crazy that she told me I wasn't allowed to sing that music anymore.
Mim has played the piano since she was very young, and when I was old enough she started teaching me to play. I hated it. HATED. I just always felt like there were better uses for my time, and why should I learn this because it will never help me in the real world or anything-basically any little kid's thoughts when they're made to practice something over and over again.
Eventually I quit (Mim wasn't happy about that) and now that I'm grown I regret quitting terribly. I can still read music, albeit very slowly, and I still have a few sonatinas memorized, but other than that I really can't play anymore. But music didn't disappear from my life.
In 7th grade I took my first choir class and from the very beginning I was hooked. I continued to take choir until my senior year in high school, when I didn't participate. I joined the Jazz choir junior year (as an alto, strangely enough)(I usually sing high soprano)(apparently if I sing low I sound sultry and jazzish) and senior year I did a song for the homecoming week talent show ("Winter" by Tori Amos).
In my high school there were basically three levels of choir classes: open choir, Warrior Chorus, and Concert Choir. The last two required an audition, but the first was open to anyone who wished to enroll. So freshman and sophomore years I was in open choir, and junior year I auditioned to be in Warrior Chorus and made it in, and when senior year rolled around I auditioned for Concert Choir. I didn't make it in. I should have. In junior year we had a Christmas concert and I had gotten a solo, beating out all the Concert Choir sopranos who auditioned. When it came time for the concert, I (somehow) got hand, foot, and mouth disease, and was forced to stay home and give up my solo to someone else. Universe: 1, Anna: 0. Either way, it was clear to everyone that I should have made it into Concert Choir. I think the director must have had something against me (and I don't want you to think I'm just saying that to make myself look better or anything, it's just truly what happened).
When they posted the lists of who got in to which choir, and my name wasn't on there, many many people were outraged. When senior year started I went to the director (who was new; the old one got fired for BIG TIME extortion) and asked to re-audition and he refused, so I decided that the drama wasn't worth it, and I didn't want to settle for being in Warrior Chorus again, so I quit. That was it. I'd had it. So senior year I didn't sing in a choir at all. Universe: 2, Anna: 0.
Then I went to college, and immediately signed up to audition for the many choirs there. And you know what? Auditions were right before the semester started and Utah has a very high elevation compared to South Dakota, and guess who got altitude sickness and couldn't sing? Yep. Universe: 3, Anna: 0.
So, I did the next best thing: I signed up for a small group vocal music class, and I loved it. It was nice because I got a lot of personal instruction from the grad student who was teaching the class (because the class was so small) and I improved my classical technique, determined to try again next year. I then spent the following summer taking private voice lessons back in Sioux Falls. I was ready to audition, and when I got to campus in the fall I went to sign up for auditions. BUT, every single choir was scheduled to meet for practice at the exact times I was in a chemistry (and therefore necessary) class, so even if I did get into a choir I wouldn't be able to come to practice unless I gave up chemistry. Universe: 4, Anna: 0.
I love singing. I always have. And I tried for eight years to make it work. But it just isn't meant to be. I got the message, Universe. You win. You freaking win.
I hope you're happy.
Mim has played the piano since she was very young, and when I was old enough she started teaching me to play. I hated it. HATED. I just always felt like there were better uses for my time, and why should I learn this because it will never help me in the real world or anything-basically any little kid's thoughts when they're made to practice something over and over again.
Eventually I quit (Mim wasn't happy about that) and now that I'm grown I regret quitting terribly. I can still read music, albeit very slowly, and I still have a few sonatinas memorized, but other than that I really can't play anymore. But music didn't disappear from my life.
In 7th grade I took my first choir class and from the very beginning I was hooked. I continued to take choir until my senior year in high school, when I didn't participate. I joined the Jazz choir junior year (as an alto, strangely enough)(I usually sing high soprano)(apparently if I sing low I sound sultry and jazzish) and senior year I did a song for the homecoming week talent show ("Winter" by Tori Amos).
In my high school there were basically three levels of choir classes: open choir, Warrior Chorus, and Concert Choir. The last two required an audition, but the first was open to anyone who wished to enroll. So freshman and sophomore years I was in open choir, and junior year I auditioned to be in Warrior Chorus and made it in, and when senior year rolled around I auditioned for Concert Choir. I didn't make it in. I should have. In junior year we had a Christmas concert and I had gotten a solo, beating out all the Concert Choir sopranos who auditioned. When it came time for the concert, I (somehow) got hand, foot, and mouth disease, and was forced to stay home and give up my solo to someone else. Universe: 1, Anna: 0. Either way, it was clear to everyone that I should have made it into Concert Choir. I think the director must have had something against me (and I don't want you to think I'm just saying that to make myself look better or anything, it's just truly what happened).
When they posted the lists of who got in to which choir, and my name wasn't on there, many many people were outraged. When senior year started I went to the director (who was new; the old one got fired for BIG TIME extortion) and asked to re-audition and he refused, so I decided that the drama wasn't worth it, and I didn't want to settle for being in Warrior Chorus again, so I quit. That was it. I'd had it. So senior year I didn't sing in a choir at all. Universe: 2, Anna: 0.
Then I went to college, and immediately signed up to audition for the many choirs there. And you know what? Auditions were right before the semester started and Utah has a very high elevation compared to South Dakota, and guess who got altitude sickness and couldn't sing? Yep. Universe: 3, Anna: 0.
So, I did the next best thing: I signed up for a small group vocal music class, and I loved it. It was nice because I got a lot of personal instruction from the grad student who was teaching the class (because the class was so small) and I improved my classical technique, determined to try again next year. I then spent the following summer taking private voice lessons back in Sioux Falls. I was ready to audition, and when I got to campus in the fall I went to sign up for auditions. BUT, every single choir was scheduled to meet for practice at the exact times I was in a chemistry (and therefore necessary) class, so even if I did get into a choir I wouldn't be able to come to practice unless I gave up chemistry. Universe: 4, Anna: 0.
I love singing. I always have. And I tried for eight years to make it work. But it just isn't meant to be. I got the message, Universe. You win. You freaking win.
I hope you're happy.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Labor Day Weekend
This past weekend was long because of Labor Day. Hooray for pointless holidays!
Scott had scheduled his (late) birthday LAN party, so Friday after work I stopped by the store and got treats, then came home and helped clean up the house a bit. It wasn't much of a job, since we usually keep things pretty tidy anyway. Our only consistent messes are on the coffee table and the kitchen table, and those didn't take long. He and his friends played from Friday night to Monday night. I don't know how he does it; my eyes get tired enough staring at a computer screen for a few hours.
I tried to arrange something fun with Kwiddens for Friday night but nobody could babysit Nyah and Nyah was sick of the car seat, since they just taken a road trip down to Arkansas to visit our grandparents. It was so sad; Nyah only had to look at her car seat to make her start crying. So I had Friday night to myself, and I just snuggled up on the couch and read "The Hobbit", one of my favorite books.
Saturday morning I got some exercise in, the came home and showered and did a little grocery shopping. Then at 3:00 some friends and I had planned a Lecture Prep reunion at Bicentennial Park in Provo. It was me, Kirk and Angie, Nate, Sarah and her boyfriend Nate and one other guy who worked there after I had already graduated whose name escapes me at the moment. We grilled and had the most amazing sweet corn and talked for 2.5 hours, sharing stories about work and remembering some of the funny things that had happened, and talking about how the Chemistry Department has changed, etc. It was just so nice to see everyone, but it made me miss working there more than ever. Oh well. I have a great job now, too.
Since I was in Provo anyway, I then drove down to Mim's house and met up with her and Em and Jorg and we all went to dinner at The Pizza Factory. After that we were talking about movies and shows we like, and Jorg suggested that some time we should get together and have a Stargate marathon, since he had never seen it. We decided to do it this weekend, since I had work off on Monday, so after dinner I drove Em and Jorg back up to my house. We watched Stargate and ate yummies and talked and it was really fun. They stayed over two nights, and Mim came to get them Monday morning. At one point Sunday night Jorg started to get sick of Stargate, so we played Phase 10 and then went to dinner at Applebee's, which ended up being a little disappointing foodwise, but the company was great. When we got back Jorg went downstairs and played Starcraft 2 with Scott and Jon. Em and I decided it was a good opportunity for chick flicking, so we watched "Moulin Rouge" and "27 Dresses". Jorg came upstairs to grab a drink and asked what Moulin Rouge was about, and I said "um...prostitutes..." and he gave me a funny look and went back downstairs. It was amusing.
Monday after Em and Jorg were gone Jon, Scott and I went and had lunch at MacCool's and then we tackled the downstairs storage room so we could clear it out because LI IS COMING TOMORROW! I'm super excited about that. We're going to have so much fun! We also went to the dollar store to get some candles and the Halloween stuff was out and there were more tombstones for our graveyard for only a dollar each (of course, it's the dollar store), so this year our graveyard will be much better. I love Halloween.
So that was my Labor Day weekend. And now I don't get another day off until Thanksgiving.
Except the few days I'll be taking off for when Li is here.
Scott had scheduled his (late) birthday LAN party, so Friday after work I stopped by the store and got treats, then came home and helped clean up the house a bit. It wasn't much of a job, since we usually keep things pretty tidy anyway. Our only consistent messes are on the coffee table and the kitchen table, and those didn't take long. He and his friends played from Friday night to Monday night. I don't know how he does it; my eyes get tired enough staring at a computer screen for a few hours.
I tried to arrange something fun with Kwiddens for Friday night but nobody could babysit Nyah and Nyah was sick of the car seat, since they just taken a road trip down to Arkansas to visit our grandparents. It was so sad; Nyah only had to look at her car seat to make her start crying. So I had Friday night to myself, and I just snuggled up on the couch and read "The Hobbit", one of my favorite books.
Saturday morning I got some exercise in, the came home and showered and did a little grocery shopping. Then at 3:00 some friends and I had planned a Lecture Prep reunion at Bicentennial Park in Provo. It was me, Kirk and Angie, Nate, Sarah and her boyfriend Nate and one other guy who worked there after I had already graduated whose name escapes me at the moment. We grilled and had the most amazing sweet corn and talked for 2.5 hours, sharing stories about work and remembering some of the funny things that had happened, and talking about how the Chemistry Department has changed, etc. It was just so nice to see everyone, but it made me miss working there more than ever. Oh well. I have a great job now, too.
Since I was in Provo anyway, I then drove down to Mim's house and met up with her and Em and Jorg and we all went to dinner at The Pizza Factory. After that we were talking about movies and shows we like, and Jorg suggested that some time we should get together and have a Stargate marathon, since he had never seen it. We decided to do it this weekend, since I had work off on Monday, so after dinner I drove Em and Jorg back up to my house. We watched Stargate and ate yummies and talked and it was really fun. They stayed over two nights, and Mim came to get them Monday morning. At one point Sunday night Jorg started to get sick of Stargate, so we played Phase 10 and then went to dinner at Applebee's, which ended up being a little disappointing foodwise, but the company was great. When we got back Jorg went downstairs and played Starcraft 2 with Scott and Jon. Em and I decided it was a good opportunity for chick flicking, so we watched "Moulin Rouge" and "27 Dresses". Jorg came upstairs to grab a drink and asked what Moulin Rouge was about, and I said "um...prostitutes..." and he gave me a funny look and went back downstairs. It was amusing.
Monday after Em and Jorg were gone Jon, Scott and I went and had lunch at MacCool's and then we tackled the downstairs storage room so we could clear it out because LI IS COMING TOMORROW! I'm super excited about that. We're going to have so much fun! We also went to the dollar store to get some candles and the Halloween stuff was out and there were more tombstones for our graveyard for only a dollar each (of course, it's the dollar store), so this year our graveyard will be much better. I love Halloween.
So that was my Labor Day weekend. And now I don't get another day off until Thanksgiving.
Except the few days I'll be taking off for when Li is here.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Twister!
Once upon a time Mim and I got a call from Kwiddens, who had been involved in a drug bust at church camp, and the other girls were being evil and mean to her, so she wanted to come home. Mim and I checked the weather report, and there were lots of tornadoes that night (it ended up being 63 in the county over the duration of the storm), but it looked like the storm was moving in the opposite direction we would need to drive, so we started driving to go get her. Unfortunately, I've never gotten the hang of north, south, east, west...I can find them easily here in Utah Valley because the mountains are always east, and always visible, so no problem. South Dakota, however, is quite flat, and mostly made of cornfields, so Mim and I got our directions wrong and when we started driving, we were driving into the storm, not away from it. Oops.
The storm was getting increasingly violent as we drove, and at one point, we were like, "Wow, I think that is a tornado!" and it was heading straight for us. We had to stop driving, because the car was starting to get lifted off the road a bit. We pulled over and waited and watched. Mim and I LOVE storms. When we lived in Oklahoma we got them all the time and the siren would be wailing and we would still be out on our front porch going "Oooooooooooh!" until the very very last minute, then make a mad dash for the bathroom, which was the only room in the house with no windows.
Needless to say, we were quite aware of the danger we were in, but we were also really excited about getting to see a storm like this up close! As we were pulled over we saw a huge funnel approaching us from the left. There was a semi parked on the other side of the interstate, and when it hit the semi it TIPPED IT OVER. Kaboom. So we looked at each other, and we were like, "We are so going to die! But what an awesome way to go!" because we're idiots. The funnel kept coming toward us, and finally encased us in our car. You would not believe the noise. It was deafening, and there was absolutely no visibility inside the funnel; it was pitch black. We, of course, were still having a blast...the car was rocking back and forth and almost tipped, but we had pulled down a little deeper into the ditch at the side of the road, so we were a bit more sheltered than the semi had been.
Then, the eye. The eye was the complete opposite of the rest of the funnel. You wouldn't believe how noisy it was out there, but you also wouldn't believe the dead silence in the eye of the storm. It was still pretty dark, but there was the most amazing lightning. Inside the funnel, the lightning looked neon green, and was in these pulsing balls...it's so hard to describe, but it was the coolest thing I have ever seen ever.
The rest of the funnel came and went, and we just sat there, totally amazed by what had just happened to us. We couldn't believe we were even alive. We decided we should probably go home and Kwiddens would have to stay at camp another day.
Conclusion: we have guardian angels. Or something. Because DUDE, it tipped over a semi, and not us. We win!
The storm was getting increasingly violent as we drove, and at one point, we were like, "Wow, I think that is a tornado!" and it was heading straight for us. We had to stop driving, because the car was starting to get lifted off the road a bit. We pulled over and waited and watched. Mim and I LOVE storms. When we lived in Oklahoma we got them all the time and the siren would be wailing and we would still be out on our front porch going "Oooooooooooh!" until the very very last minute, then make a mad dash for the bathroom, which was the only room in the house with no windows.
Needless to say, we were quite aware of the danger we were in, but we were also really excited about getting to see a storm like this up close! As we were pulled over we saw a huge funnel approaching us from the left. There was a semi parked on the other side of the interstate, and when it hit the semi it TIPPED IT OVER. Kaboom. So we looked at each other, and we were like, "We are so going to die! But what an awesome way to go!" because we're idiots. The funnel kept coming toward us, and finally encased us in our car. You would not believe the noise. It was deafening, and there was absolutely no visibility inside the funnel; it was pitch black. We, of course, were still having a blast...the car was rocking back and forth and almost tipped, but we had pulled down a little deeper into the ditch at the side of the road, so we were a bit more sheltered than the semi had been.
Then, the eye. The eye was the complete opposite of the rest of the funnel. You wouldn't believe how noisy it was out there, but you also wouldn't believe the dead silence in the eye of the storm. It was still pretty dark, but there was the most amazing lightning. Inside the funnel, the lightning looked neon green, and was in these pulsing balls...it's so hard to describe, but it was the coolest thing I have ever seen ever.
The rest of the funnel came and went, and we just sat there, totally amazed by what had just happened to us. We couldn't believe we were even alive. We decided we should probably go home and Kwiddens would have to stay at camp another day.
Conclusion: we have guardian angels. Or something. Because DUDE, it tipped over a semi, and not us. We win!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
The Evolution Of Newb
When Kwiddens started high school, and I was in my senior year, we sorta...started our own language. It isn't completely different from English, but it's completely confusing if you're not used to it.
I don't remember exactly how it started, but I know it involved my senior year boyfriend, Dan. Dan and Kwiddens and I would hang out in the orchestra room before school every morning, and we would get to talking, and we were being really goofy, and in high school almost nobody is politically correct, and so we were...talking like...retarded people...I feel awful confessing that, because I realize now how mean that is! But the whole point is, we would talk in this language and we called it "Weetawd". See? I'm a horrible person, and I'm going to hell.
So at some point we did realize that it was horribly rude and awful, etc. So, we decided to call it something else, and the name changed to "Doobie". Because we had called annoying idiot people doobies and it was just hilarious at the time.
Now, a quick aside:
One summer, about a year later, Kwiddens went to Girl's Camp (church camp) and while she was there, she caught a group of girls GETTING HIGH AT CHURCH CAMP. And it wasn't just pot, either; there was some harder stuff there. Anyway, Kwiddens went and told a camp counselor, who called the police, and they came and the girls got in trouble. You would think the rest of the girls, the ones who were following the rules and actually wanted camp to be a spiritual experience, would be proud of Kwiddens for standing up for her beliefs and doing the right thing, but they were so horribly mean to her that she called for us to come pick her up. Unfortunately, we couldn't, since that was the night there were 63 tornadoes in our county...driving wasn't such a good idea. We tried, and got stuck in a funnel, which was SO COOL, and we thought we were going to die, and when we were out we decided that wasn't a good night for driving, so Kwiddens was stuck there. I'll write more about being inside a tornado some other time.
The whole experience shook her so much that calling it "Doobie" was now out of the question, since of course the word is drug-related. We decided to call it "Newb" instead, because Dan was always saying "Look at those newbs!"...I think that came from some kind of internet slang.
Anyway. So that's how Newb started. Here are some of the grammatical rules:
Firstly, and most importantly, Kristen turnes into Kwiddens, but if you say Kwitten you are using the worst swear word in the language.
When speaking Newb, one adds n's to words that don't actually have n's in them. Examples are "nansty" (nasty) (although this has its own word, which is just nast, used as a noun) and "int" (it), etc. One has to be careful, though, because if you add an n to the word "cut" bad things happen, so that's the exception.
Th's are turned into f's. Examples are "fink" (think), "bafroom" (bathroom) (which is now BF for short) and "birfday" (birthday).
Singular words are pluralized. "I hans to use the bafrooms."
Pronouns and verb tenses are mixed up. Think Gollum + Dobby. We also add in "precious", as a tribute to LotR.
If you're just starting to use Newb, the best thing to do is study Homestar Runner (the guy with the star on his shirt). That's how everything ends up being pronounced. Intonation is the most important part of Newb.
There are a few specific phrases that we use often. One is calling someone "Little Chicken". This is because once, when Kwiddens was working at DQ, she was putting chicken strips into the fryer and she was talking to them, like "It's ok, little chickens, it'll be over soon" and things like that, just to be silly. It totally stuck.
We're sisters, and friends, so we call each other "sista fwend". We also call loved ones "Stupid", "Dummy", "Idiot", etc., and that is like saying "I love you!" in Newb.
There is a little confusion when you pronounce the words cows, cars, and calls. They all sound exactly the same, so you have to use context to figure out what's going on.
South Dakota is "Souf Kadoda".
Anywaaaaaym (anyway)...
The most amazing thing is, once Kwiddens and I started using Newb on a regular basis, Mim joined in, and it became something special we three did. It bugged Dad to no end, and that was an added bonus. Mim became Mim when we were watching The Sword In The Stone and decided it would be fun to call her Mim instead of Mom. When Scott and I started seriously dating and he noticed me and Kwiddens talking like this, he joined in, and is now fluent.
Whatchoo fink?
Pretty amusing?
You KNOWIT.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Meme: Because I Can
1. How much would you have to be paid to eat a human cadaver's finger?
I don't think so. Just...no.
2. Describe the worst physical fight you've ever been in.
When Kwiddens and I lived in Idaho (I think) she pushed me down and walked all over me and gave me a black eye and a bloody nose. I don't think I fought back though.
3. Name one song that if you never heard it ever again, you'd be thrilled.
That "According To You" song is so obnoxious and repetitive I wish they would just stop playing it a million times a day.
4. Describe the "drunkest" situation you've ever been.
Ok, this one is interesting...one time in high school my friend had a birthday, so we all went to this restaurant and had dinner, and I ordered drinks but specified that I was underage so DON'T ADD ALCOHOL PLEASE and what do you know, they actually did put alcohol in it (by accident, I assume)(I hope), and I was so sleepy I just went home and slept very soundly all night. Then I woke up and had to go to church in the morning and OH BOY did I have a headache.
5. What's your biggest regret?
I have so many that it would make me sad and angry at myself to try to single one out so I'm just not going to think about it. For now. Because I'll probably obsess over it sometime soon.
I don't think so. Just...no.
2. Describe the worst physical fight you've ever been in.
When Kwiddens and I lived in Idaho (I think) she pushed me down and walked all over me and gave me a black eye and a bloody nose. I don't think I fought back though.
3. Name one song that if you never heard it ever again, you'd be thrilled.
That "According To You" song is so obnoxious and repetitive I wish they would just stop playing it a million times a day.
4. Describe the "drunkest" situation you've ever been.
Ok, this one is interesting...one time in high school my friend had a birthday, so we all went to this restaurant and had dinner, and I ordered drinks but specified that I was underage so DON'T ADD ALCOHOL PLEASE and what do you know, they actually did put alcohol in it (by accident, I assume)(I hope), and I was so sleepy I just went home and slept very soundly all night. Then I woke up and had to go to church in the morning and OH BOY did I have a headache.
5. What's your biggest regret?
I have so many that it would make me sad and angry at myself to try to single one out so I'm just not going to think about it. For now. Because I'll probably obsess over it sometime soon.
Friday, July 23, 2010
200
Well, this is my 200th post.When I started this blog I was only posting a few things a month, and it was just about things that happened every now and then, and it's come very far from that. I talk about more than just my day-to-day life; I talk about my feelings and my struggles with food, exercise, and my weight. I talk about the things I make (though I haven't made much lately because I'm SO FREAKING ADDICTED to Plants vs. Zombies). I talk about things that scare or worry me. I talk about my family. I bring up a few old memories, of things good and bad. It's just MY space, and I feel more and more that I can do whatever I want here. There are a few things I probably won't talk about, since I'm trying to keep this at a PG or PG-13 level, but for the most part I'm becoming more open.
My favorite part of all this is the friends I've made out there in the internet. I love this little community that we've all worked so hard to build. I feel as if, just maybe, I'm finally contributing to it in a meaningful way. It's also a good way to keep in touch with old friends and family members. I love that Kwiddens reads this, and I wish I could get Mim to read it, but she's so freaking busy...oh well.
I'd like to think that my writing is getting better as well. Maybe. In high school I took AP English and Literature classes, testing out of freshman English and Composition classes in college, so except for the occasional paper here and there in my generals, I haven't written properly since high school. I know this doesn't count as writing properly, like writing research papers and essays, but I think that this is a good exercise in learning to describe my world more accurately, and more colorfully, and that's worth something.
I had journals when I was little, but I stopped writing in them because Kwiddens would read them and then make fun of me for something I had written, and back then I couldn't handle that. It's really a shame because I know there are a lot of things that I wish I had written down back when they were fresh in my mind. I started keeping a journal on my laptop freshman year of college, and I had a blog then as well, but Mim and I had a huge fight over something I had said on my blog (I told the world she was crazy, and it was true, but she hadn't come to terms with it or gotten medication yet so that didn't go over too well), so I threw a hissy fit and deleted it (yay, maturity) (I was 17) (I can't believe how dumb I was when I was 17) (or even 18), and of course I wish I hadn't because that was almost an entire year of my thoughts, just gone. As for the journal I kept on my laptop, an ex-boyfriend hacked into it and read all of it behind my back...that relationship didn't end well. Soon after that my laptop was stolen so it was all gone anyway, and someone, somewhere, knows all my secrets. Awesome.
Anyway, that's a roundabout way of saying that this is something I've done before, but I think now I'm finally doing it right. I do censor myself a little, but it's not because I'm afraid someone or other will stumble across this blog and find out that I hate them anymore. Now, it's because there are people I care about that do read this and I would love for them to continue reading this unoffended.
I really feel now that this is my space. Mine. I can say whatever I want here, and I know that the people that read this either know me personally and love me no matter what (because I'm super awesome) (or something) or they don't know me personally and live far far away and if I say something that they don't want to read they can just stop reading. Everyone wins. I think I've come a long way from where I started...two years ago there's no way in hell I would have told anyone I was bipolar, but I've changed so much.
That's something else I enjoy about blogging. I can go backward in time and see what I wrote months, or even years, ago, and see how things have progressed. I can go back and reminisce about the way things were once upon a time, and that's why I sincerely regret that I stopped journaling and blogging before.
But I'm fixing that, as much as it can be fixed, anyway.
Anyway, I love blogging, and I love my bloggy friends, and that's about it. Now let's see how long it takes me to get to 300.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Missing School
Often at work, or when people ask me a chemistry question, I realize how much I've forgotten and how much I never knew in the first place. That's the problem with getting a degree; the more you learn the dumber you feel as you find out about more and more that you don't have a clue about. Awesome.
I often get the urge to review my chemistry just to keep it fresh in my mind, and I've never really acted on that urge because I didn't have many of my books from college. It's one of the only things I regret from my college years: selling back my chemistry books. Now, I realize that this was necessary in order to afford the books for the next semester, but I wish I would have found another way, because now I don't have them and I miss them terribly.
But the other day, I was itching to review some chemistry, and I remembered that I am The Queen Of Internet Shopping, and I decided to see if I could find my old books online. I made myself a list of the chemistry courses I had taken (I still remember each course and its course number, yes that's sad) and went down the list, searching online for the book I had for each course. This wasn't easy as I had forgotten which books I had in the first place, so I spent a few hours doing this. But I did it!
The next step was finding the books for sale online. This is why I am in love with Amazon.com. I found all of my books. All of them. The best part? Three of them were under $10 (including shipping) in very good condition from sellers of used books. I went home and checked to see what books I still had, and I had several still, and a few that I didn't have I had some good replacements for (due to inheriting all the books in an old professor's office one time), so I only needed to actually buy five books. So I'm keeping a close eye on Amazon to see if the other two books come down in price. Even if they don't, I will be able to get them for about $20 each, which isn't bad considering they were originally hundreds of dollars. Let me tell you, upper level chemistry books are some of the most expensive textbooks out there.
So I started with my general chemistry book, which I still had. When I was in college I was so busy that I pretty much learned what was going to be on the exams, and there were bits and pieces that I missed because I was strapped for time. This time around, I have all the time in the world, so I am reading each chapter slowly, highlighting and practicing the chapter exercises. I'm in nerd heaven. I remember now why I chose this as my major: it's very interesting, and there are numbers involved, and I love math and I love knowing how things work and interesting applications of different chemical processes.
So the plan is to go through and review, class by class, until I feel I have fully refreshed my memory, and even learned more than I did in the first place.
Now. This has brought all sorts of good memories to the front of my mind, and I am remembering how much I loved school. I've always loved school, since the very first day of kindergarten. Yes, there were times when I was stressed, but I love learning. I love the smell of books, I love buying new school supplies, I love sitting in class and listening and debating and asking questions, I love sitting and doing homework (believe it or not), and I love taking tests, because they are challenges and it's very gratifying to get good scores, which I almost always did (because of loving school so much).
All of this made me want so very badly to go back to grad school.
But one of the things I've realized about myself is that I can't be in school full time and be healthy at the same time. It's too much. I don't handle stress well, and if I don't sleep enough it throws my brain chemicals (and my whole body) into utter chaos. I thought about doing a master's with night classes, just part time, but chemistry is one of the few disciplines that can't really be done at night. There just isn't enough demand for chemistry classes to extend them to night school.
I wouldn't want to quit my job, either. I love my job. It's amazing. It's such a perfect match to me and my needs. Getting a master's would involve time-consuming research, and I would probably have to quit to be able to devote enough time to it.
The other thing to consider is that I wouldn't know where to go. BYU's chemistry department was AMAZING in resources, classes offered, and staff. I loved it there. I didn't like BYU in general, but the chemistry department was always wonderful to me. So, naturally I would want to go there for grad school. However, not only is it an hour and a half drive from my house if there's no traffic, but I couldn't get back in to save my life, since I've become a heathen.
So, my other options would be to go to the U of U or Weber State, which are closer to my house, but not close enough to be convenient, and I don't honestly know much about either chemistry department, except that the U of U was the place where that cold fusion thing took place years and years ago, which didn't make them look too good.
So, basically, it won't happen. It can't happen. And I need to be ok with that.
So I think what I will do is to keep reviewing my books, and then branch out. I learn extremely well from books, and if there's anything I don't understand I can always internet. The internet knows everything; you just have to know how to sort through the garbage to get to the real stuff.
I often get the urge to review my chemistry just to keep it fresh in my mind, and I've never really acted on that urge because I didn't have many of my books from college. It's one of the only things I regret from my college years: selling back my chemistry books. Now, I realize that this was necessary in order to afford the books for the next semester, but I wish I would have found another way, because now I don't have them and I miss them terribly.
But the other day, I was itching to review some chemistry, and I remembered that I am The Queen Of Internet Shopping, and I decided to see if I could find my old books online. I made myself a list of the chemistry courses I had taken (I still remember each course and its course number, yes that's sad) and went down the list, searching online for the book I had for each course. This wasn't easy as I had forgotten which books I had in the first place, so I spent a few hours doing this. But I did it!
The next step was finding the books for sale online. This is why I am in love with Amazon.com. I found all of my books. All of them. The best part? Three of them were under $10 (including shipping) in very good condition from sellers of used books. I went home and checked to see what books I still had, and I had several still, and a few that I didn't have I had some good replacements for (due to inheriting all the books in an old professor's office one time), so I only needed to actually buy five books. So I'm keeping a close eye on Amazon to see if the other two books come down in price. Even if they don't, I will be able to get them for about $20 each, which isn't bad considering they were originally hundreds of dollars. Let me tell you, upper level chemistry books are some of the most expensive textbooks out there.
So I started with my general chemistry book, which I still had. When I was in college I was so busy that I pretty much learned what was going to be on the exams, and there were bits and pieces that I missed because I was strapped for time. This time around, I have all the time in the world, so I am reading each chapter slowly, highlighting and practicing the chapter exercises. I'm in nerd heaven. I remember now why I chose this as my major: it's very interesting, and there are numbers involved, and I love math and I love knowing how things work and interesting applications of different chemical processes.
So the plan is to go through and review, class by class, until I feel I have fully refreshed my memory, and even learned more than I did in the first place.
Now. This has brought all sorts of good memories to the front of my mind, and I am remembering how much I loved school. I've always loved school, since the very first day of kindergarten. Yes, there were times when I was stressed, but I love learning. I love the smell of books, I love buying new school supplies, I love sitting in class and listening and debating and asking questions, I love sitting and doing homework (believe it or not), and I love taking tests, because they are challenges and it's very gratifying to get good scores, which I almost always did (because of loving school so much).
All of this made me want so very badly to go back to grad school.
But one of the things I've realized about myself is that I can't be in school full time and be healthy at the same time. It's too much. I don't handle stress well, and if I don't sleep enough it throws my brain chemicals (and my whole body) into utter chaos. I thought about doing a master's with night classes, just part time, but chemistry is one of the few disciplines that can't really be done at night. There just isn't enough demand for chemistry classes to extend them to night school.
I wouldn't want to quit my job, either. I love my job. It's amazing. It's such a perfect match to me and my needs. Getting a master's would involve time-consuming research, and I would probably have to quit to be able to devote enough time to it.
The other thing to consider is that I wouldn't know where to go. BYU's chemistry department was AMAZING in resources, classes offered, and staff. I loved it there. I didn't like BYU in general, but the chemistry department was always wonderful to me. So, naturally I would want to go there for grad school. However, not only is it an hour and a half drive from my house if there's no traffic, but I couldn't get back in to save my life, since I've become a heathen.
So, my other options would be to go to the U of U or Weber State, which are closer to my house, but not close enough to be convenient, and I don't honestly know much about either chemistry department, except that the U of U was the place where that cold fusion thing took place years and years ago, which didn't make them look too good.
So, basically, it won't happen. It can't happen. And I need to be ok with that.
So I think what I will do is to keep reviewing my books, and then branch out. I learn extremely well from books, and if there's anything I don't understand I can always internet. The internet knows everything; you just have to know how to sort through the garbage to get to the real stuff.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Red To Blue
So this past weekend for Memorial Day I went down to Mim's to spend the weekend. One of the main events was dying Em's hair. When she's in school she has to stick to "natural" colors per the school dress code (technically, her shade of red is against the rules but the teachers all like it so much they never write her up for it!), but as soon as it's summer it's time to kick it up a notch.
So here is my beautiful sister Em with her old color:
It's actually more vibrant than this but you get the idea.
Right before we started:
Isn't she adorable? I mean, ahem, totally cool?
Anyway so the game plan was to bleach her hair as white as it would go and then put the blue dye over it to get an icy blue sort of color all over.
We applied the bleach and waited...and waited...after about an hour we figured we should probably rinse it out and this is is what we got:
Not quite as white as we wanted...that red was so stubborn! So, we had Mim go buy another bleaching kit... We applied that and waited...and waited...but it had faded all it was going to fade, so the plan had to change. We decided that the blue over the red would make purple and she was ok with having blue roots and purple tips, so on we went.
Right as I was putting the blue dye on Em had a stroke of brilliance and thought it would be awesome if we left a little bit of it reddish orange in the front, so I sectioned off some and left it while the blue dye did its thing.
So originally it was going to be all blue but I think this turned out much cooler:
Some reddish orange in the front with blue roots in the back and a frosty purple on the tips.
My sister is SO Rock 'n' Roll!
Now, short rant:
When I was Em's age I would have LOVED to have blue hair. Or really any color other than my own. But Dad was so strict...he didn't want us wearing any makeup or even nail polish, let alone dye our hair. Finally Mim convinced him that it would be ok for me to dye it a little, and so I got to dye it a slightly lighter shade of my own natural hair color. So exciting, I know.
Anyway, now that Dad is out of the picture (mostly, anyway) Mim has seen the light and relaxed and realized that it's FREAKING FUN to have crazy colors in your hair, and is a lot more lenient with Em and Jorg than she ever was with me and Kwiddens.
Totally not fair.
Just another gem of a memory from my childhood.
Rant over.
So here is my beautiful sister Em with her old color:
It's actually more vibrant than this but you get the idea.
Right before we started:
Isn't she adorable? I mean, ahem, totally cool?
Anyway so the game plan was to bleach her hair as white as it would go and then put the blue dye over it to get an icy blue sort of color all over.
We applied the bleach and waited...and waited...after about an hour we figured we should probably rinse it out and this is is what we got:
Not quite as white as we wanted...that red was so stubborn! So, we had Mim go buy another bleaching kit... We applied that and waited...and waited...but it had faded all it was going to fade, so the plan had to change. We decided that the blue over the red would make purple and she was ok with having blue roots and purple tips, so on we went.
Right as I was putting the blue dye on Em had a stroke of brilliance and thought it would be awesome if we left a little bit of it reddish orange in the front, so I sectioned off some and left it while the blue dye did its thing.
So originally it was going to be all blue but I think this turned out much cooler:
Some reddish orange in the front with blue roots in the back and a frosty purple on the tips.
My sister is SO Rock 'n' Roll!
Now, short rant:
When I was Em's age I would have LOVED to have blue hair. Or really any color other than my own. But Dad was so strict...he didn't want us wearing any makeup or even nail polish, let alone dye our hair. Finally Mim convinced him that it would be ok for me to dye it a little, and so I got to dye it a slightly lighter shade of my own natural hair color. So exciting, I know.
Anyway, now that Dad is out of the picture (mostly, anyway) Mim has seen the light and relaxed and realized that it's FREAKING FUN to have crazy colors in your hair, and is a lot more lenient with Em and Jorg than she ever was with me and Kwiddens.
Totally not fair.
Just another gem of a memory from my childhood.
Rant over.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Emotions...So Complicated
When I was growing up and my life was a living hell and I hadn't found the proper medication (or the proper psychotherapist, for that matter) I had to come up with some way to cope with all the crap and the only way I could was to shut out as much emotion as possible and just try to feel numb. For the most part, it worked. I studied a lot, which ended up being a very good thing, and kept me hidden away in my room most of the time I was at home, and I had friends, but I think I didn't know how much they meant to me until we were thousands of miles apart.
Now that I'm properly medicated I have the ability to feel emotions like "normal" people do. Antidepressants (and mood stabilizers, and antipsychotics, oh my) aren't "happy pills"; they simply give me the ability to feel happy when it is appropriate. While this is a beautiful, beautiful thing, these magical little pills also give me the ability to feel immensely sad at times, but about things that I should feel sad about.
So lately I've been a little bored, mostly just because I've been working fewer hours and am less motivated to work on the blanket (which is coming along beautifully, by the way, I'm just feeling quite blah about everything) and so I have more time to think and hang out on Facebook.
And lately what I've been noticing is that I feel immensely sad when I think about the friends I had back in South Dakota and how much I miss them, and even more sad when I think about how I'm stuck here in Utah and will probably never see most of them again.
I had one friend, Jacee, who was in the theater department with me and we had so much fun all the time having sleepovers, renting movies, going on bike rides, etc. My boyfriend and I went to the prom with her and her boyfriend. We were together the night of the senior class party and all the times we went to that nasty old pancake house on 10th Street.
Another friend I had was Cali, who was and always will be the most beautiful person I have ever known. She introduced me to so much amazing music, and she always let me be myself when I was with her. We had so many inside jokes, and we knew all about each other's pasts and heartaches. We even had a notebook (that I found the other day...forgot I still had it) in which we wrote our "Complaint of the Day" every day in lit class.
There was Shelby, who has always been an inspiration to me. She lives every day to its fullest..."No Day But Today" was plastered on the top of her mortarboard the day we graduated high school. She has always been a good person to talk to, to bounce ideas off of, to cry or complain to, because she loves listening and truly cares.
I had a lot of friends like this in college as well, and it's always the same story...we grow up and move on and try to keep in touch but life gets busy and it's never the same again.
I am so incredibly sad about this.
And the heartbreaking part is, I don't have very many people like this in my life any more. And I don't know where to find them, now that I'm out of school, and that makes me feel kinda...pathetic. Like, I've turned into this lonely person and now that I can actually feel emotions and have lasting relationships all the relationships I had before are all but gone.
Isn't life awesome?
Friday, May 21, 2010
In No Particular Order
Just some thoughts:
The new girl that works in the micro lab is way nicer than the old one.
One time when I was really little (6 I think) I bit Kwiddens on the nose and then lied to Mim and said "Kristen bit her nose!" and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how she knew it was me...
I like weighing only 150 lbs.
I love making this blanket so much that I want to design more squares to go on it so it will be bigger and take me longer to make. Scott thinks it's hideous, but Mim will love it!
When I went to the prom senior year of high school I wore a dress from the 1920's. I looked amazing. The restaurant we went to was called "The Victorian Tearoom" and it was exactly what it sounds like.
I got french vanilla cappuccino at Maverik this morning but when I got to work and started drinking it, it turned out they had put the wrong mix in the machine and it was pumpkin spice flavored. It wasn't bad, it was just not what I wanted and expected. I drank it anyway, because I took Nyquil last night and I was feeling terribly groggy this morning and needed to perk up.
I recently undertook the giant task of cleaning my office at work. When I inherited it almost two years ago it was stuffed to the brim with junk and dust and old samples...now all the books and records are organized, shelves are dusted off, the old broken chair is gone, the samples are in nice little boxes, and I got rid of the really old random crap that was in my desk drawers and taking up space in my cupboards.
All I want right now is a nap.
I got overwhelmed one day last week and snapped at my boss and I apologized profusely and I think we're ok now but I can't stop thinking about it and feeling horrible that I said what I said in the tone I said it in, but more that I lost control at work. I'm usually good about containing my crazy and keeping it away from work so people there will like me and think I'm sane, but last week I just...I feel terrible about it. I also feel disappointed in myself for even getting overwhelmed. Normally I am invincible superchemist and no matter how many samples they throw at me I still get them done quickly with a smile on my face. I think part of the problem was that someone came in and asked me to do a large project soonish, and I said OK, and then not even five minutes later someone else came in and said that the project was more of an ASAP thing than a soonish thing and I just felt like I hadn't even had time to look at the project before someone else was asking about it.
TGIF.
I have that weird restless feeling again. It might have to do with the Nyquil.
The new girl that works in the micro lab is way nicer than the old one.
One time when I was really little (6 I think) I bit Kwiddens on the nose and then lied to Mim and said "Kristen bit her nose!" and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how she knew it was me...
I like weighing only 150 lbs.
I love making this blanket so much that I want to design more squares to go on it so it will be bigger and take me longer to make. Scott thinks it's hideous, but Mim will love it!
When I went to the prom senior year of high school I wore a dress from the 1920's. I looked amazing. The restaurant we went to was called "The Victorian Tearoom" and it was exactly what it sounds like.
I got french vanilla cappuccino at Maverik this morning but when I got to work and started drinking it, it turned out they had put the wrong mix in the machine and it was pumpkin spice flavored. It wasn't bad, it was just not what I wanted and expected. I drank it anyway, because I took Nyquil last night and I was feeling terribly groggy this morning and needed to perk up.
I recently undertook the giant task of cleaning my office at work. When I inherited it almost two years ago it was stuffed to the brim with junk and dust and old samples...now all the books and records are organized, shelves are dusted off, the old broken chair is gone, the samples are in nice little boxes, and I got rid of the really old random crap that was in my desk drawers and taking up space in my cupboards.
All I want right now is a nap.
I got overwhelmed one day last week and snapped at my boss and I apologized profusely and I think we're ok now but I can't stop thinking about it and feeling horrible that I said what I said in the tone I said it in, but more that I lost control at work. I'm usually good about containing my crazy and keeping it away from work so people there will like me and think I'm sane, but last week I just...I feel terrible about it. I also feel disappointed in myself for even getting overwhelmed. Normally I am invincible superchemist and no matter how many samples they throw at me I still get them done quickly with a smile on my face. I think part of the problem was that someone came in and asked me to do a large project soonish, and I said OK, and then not even five minutes later someone else came in and said that the project was more of an ASAP thing than a soonish thing and I just felt like I hadn't even had time to look at the project before someone else was asking about it.
TGIF.
I have that weird restless feeling again. It might have to do with the Nyquil.
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