This past weekend, I was able to go home to throw a bachelorette party for my other bestie, Cupcake. It was a whirlwind and I am still exhausted. Because her sister and I (co-MOH's) both are in school in other states, she bought several bridesmaids' dresses for us to try on with the hopes that we wouldn't actually have to go shopping. These hopes were in vain. For some reason, pleating is really "in" right now. My childbearing hips do not know why this is the case. Pleats are cruel and unforgiving (although they aren't as bad as bandage skirts/dresses, which somehow make skinny girls look curvy, and heavy girls look thin, and me (slender, but curvy (read: T & A), well within the normal weight range for my height) look like a beached whale). 10 stores and ~25 dresses later, we finally found a teal-ish/aqua-ish one-shoulder number that's gauzy and beachy and cute without making me look a little pregnant.
We had a lingerie shower at her house, where we did jello shots, played games (get the dick in the hole*, among others), and opened naughty presents. Hilarity and inappropriateness ensued. When I did my shopping, I made the Boy come to the adult store with me, because while I am not terribly prude (I mean, I got her a vibrating cock ring, for goodness' sakes), there is some weird shit in those places (like the dildo that was 4 inches in diameter and if it was physically possible, would have gone up to my boobs if fully inserted, and no, it wasn't a two-way, because it had balls at the end). When I told this story, Cupcake's other friend (who was the only one who got a dirtier present than I did) laughed at me and said that she not only is willing to go by herself, she has a frequent customer card and "wanted [her] points, dammit!"
After the shower, we went to a club in the clubby part of town and danced and laughed and drank overpriced drinks and were mildly dance-raped by strangers. Cupcake was suuuuper drunk and, when shot a look of mild horror, would push the dance-raper away and yell at him for assaulting her friends. A bouncer finally had to tell her to stop it. It was hilarious and wonderful, and I am so happy for her and her fiance. I love them both dearly, and I'm glad that she is with someone who so clearly adores her. I think they'll have a long and happy life together, especially if he keeps paying the cleaning lady. Their wedding is going to be amazing, and having that light at the end of the tunnel is seriously what is going to get me through finals. Four days on the beach with friends, food, and booze? Yes, please!
*It is a relay race in which you tie a hotdog to a string around your waist so that it dangles to your knees, and then without using your hands, try to get the hotdog through the top of a milk jug. Hilarity ensues. The first team to all successfully and quickly get their dicks in the hole wins.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Best Friend Shenanigans
The Bestie was here two weekends ago. It was so lovely to see her. Three months is far too long to wait to see your best friend.
The beginning of her trip was a little rough, because she was flying standby and got bumped from the second leg of her flight, meaning I had to drive to the airport 2 hours away to pick her up instead of the smaller, regional airport 40 minutes away. It was nice, though, because we had 2 hours in the car to catch up. The Boy and our friend Superman* made us a lovely dinner of chicken sandwiches that were ready when we got there. They even waited for us, which was super nice of them, because 1) dinner was 2 hours later than I promised them it would be and 2) I also promised them that I would do most of the cooking. After dinner we went to see The Hunger Games, which was pretty good, but cut out a lot of things that I think made the movie kind of confusing if you didn't read the books. I read a review that said that the "hunger" was practically eliminated from the movie, which I thought was true. There were a lot of scenes where Katniss and/or Peeta "weren't hungry" or "done" without having eaten very much at all. Not so in the book. After the movie, we went back to the Boy's apartment where we taught Bestie Nertz. I don't know how it's possible that we've been friends for so long and I still haven't taught her Nertz, but she kicked our butts. It was insane.**
Saturday, we went to a "darty" (read: day party) at the home of another friend. There was frisbee, day drinking***, corn hole, roof-sitting, failed drunk tests (Superman and I have the bruises to prove it), videogames, Bang!****, and being told yet again how amazingmom's my salsa is. Afterwards, we went back to the Boy's and watched Man on Fire, but Bestie and I fell asleep halfway through. Not really sure what happened, but I woke up to a very violent and confusing ending.
Sunday, we went to the mall, because we both love pretty things, even if we are poor (underwear sales! Free Clinique! How could I say no?) and I showed her the campus and we went to Superman's for dinner and Illuminati, which is a game designed to make you hate your friends. It is essentially conspiracies and backstabbing, and I took to it like a duck to water. It is a good thing that the Boy likes how competitive I am, because pretty much no one else does. It's not my most attractive feature, but he shares my dislike of people who can never seem to give a damn about anything.
I miss her dearly, and I really wish that she could come visit me every month, at least, but alas, we are both poor, and even buddy passes are expensive when you're poor. Next year, when she's done saving the LAUSD, she's gonna get a J-O-B and then maybe she can visit some more. Or, alternatively, since she is no longer saddled with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, she can get a J-O-B here and we will live happily ever after. She can fall madly in love with Superman or Captain Optimism***** and we can have adventures and it shall be lovely. Just consider it.
*As per usual, all names have been changed to protect the innocent. Which, clearly, is obvious, because I am, unfortunately, not friends with Superman. (Holy parenthetical interruptions, Batman!) Also, it should be noted that Superman originally suggested the name Clark, as in Kent, but since no one gets actual names, he shall henceforth and forever be known as Superman. Which is "what [he] really wanted, anyway."
**For those of you who don't know, Nertz is essentially multi-player solitaire. You start with a "nertz" pile of 12 cards face down, with a 13th card face up. The object of the game is to get rid of your nertz pile. Any cards left in that pile count as -2 towards your score. You cannot lay any cards on top of your nertz cards. You then deal 4 cards face up to be your "well"(? I don't know what else to call these cards), upon which you play other cards in descending order and opposite colors (for example--if you have a black 7 in your "well" you can lay a red 6 on top, just like in solitaire). Only you can play on your well cards. When you come across an ace, you play it in the center. Everyone is able to play off of the cards in the center of the table, which are played just like the aces in solitaire--same suit, ascending order. The person who lays a king on a pile in the center turns it face down, indicating that the pile is dead. Each card played in the middle counts as +1, any cards in the "well" area are neither positive nor negative.The first person to call "Nertz" wins the round, and everyone counts their score for the round. The first person to 100 wins the game.
***Bestie and I were able to create a delicious cocktail by salvaging and combining a strawberry margarita that had too much strawberry and not enough tequila and a screwdriver with too much vodka and not enough orange juice. It tasted like summer and freedom.
****Like mafia, but harder and less fun.
*****I did not ask him for input on his name, but it is highly fitting.
The beginning of her trip was a little rough, because she was flying standby and got bumped from the second leg of her flight, meaning I had to drive to the airport 2 hours away to pick her up instead of the smaller, regional airport 40 minutes away. It was nice, though, because we had 2 hours in the car to catch up. The Boy and our friend Superman* made us a lovely dinner of chicken sandwiches that were ready when we got there. They even waited for us, which was super nice of them, because 1) dinner was 2 hours later than I promised them it would be and 2) I also promised them that I would do most of the cooking. After dinner we went to see The Hunger Games, which was pretty good, but cut out a lot of things that I think made the movie kind of confusing if you didn't read the books. I read a review that said that the "hunger" was practically eliminated from the movie, which I thought was true. There were a lot of scenes where Katniss and/or Peeta "weren't hungry" or "done" without having eaten very much at all. Not so in the book. After the movie, we went back to the Boy's apartment where we taught Bestie Nertz. I don't know how it's possible that we've been friends for so long and I still haven't taught her Nertz, but she kicked our butts. It was insane.**
Saturday, we went to a "darty" (read: day party) at the home of another friend. There was frisbee, day drinking***, corn hole, roof-sitting, failed drunk tests (Superman and I have the bruises to prove it), videogames, Bang!****, and being told yet again how amazing
Sunday, we went to the mall, because we both love pretty things, even if we are poor (underwear sales! Free Clinique! How could I say no?) and I showed her the campus and we went to Superman's for dinner and Illuminati, which is a game designed to make you hate your friends. It is essentially conspiracies and backstabbing, and I took to it like a duck to water. It is a good thing that the Boy likes how competitive I am, because pretty much no one else does. It's not my most attractive feature, but he shares my dislike of people who can never seem to give a damn about anything.
I miss her dearly, and I really wish that she could come visit me every month, at least, but alas, we are both poor, and even buddy passes are expensive when you're poor. Next year, when she's done saving the LAUSD, she's gonna get a J-O-B and then maybe she can visit some more. Or, alternatively, since she is no longer saddled with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, she can get a J-O-B here and we will live happily ever after. She can fall madly in love with Superman or Captain Optimism***** and we can have adventures and it shall be lovely. Just consider it.
*As per usual, all names have been changed to protect the innocent. Which, clearly, is obvious, because I am, unfortunately, not friends with Superman. (Holy parenthetical interruptions, Batman!) Also, it should be noted that Superman originally suggested the name Clark, as in Kent, but since no one gets actual names, he shall henceforth and forever be known as Superman. Which is "what [he] really wanted, anyway."
**For those of you who don't know, Nertz is essentially multi-player solitaire. You start with a "nertz" pile of 12 cards face down, with a 13th card face up. The object of the game is to get rid of your nertz pile. Any cards left in that pile count as -2 towards your score. You cannot lay any cards on top of your nertz cards. You then deal 4 cards face up to be your "well"(? I don't know what else to call these cards), upon which you play other cards in descending order and opposite colors (for example--if you have a black 7 in your "well" you can lay a red 6 on top, just like in solitaire). Only you can play on your well cards. When you come across an ace, you play it in the center. Everyone is able to play off of the cards in the center of the table, which are played just like the aces in solitaire--same suit, ascending order. The person who lays a king on a pile in the center turns it face down, indicating that the pile is dead. Each card played in the middle counts as +1, any cards in the "well" area are neither positive nor negative.The first person to call "Nertz" wins the round, and everyone counts their score for the round. The first person to 100 wins the game.
***Bestie and I were able to create a delicious cocktail by salvaging and combining a strawberry margarita that had too much strawberry and not enough tequila and a screwdriver with too much vodka and not enough orange juice. It tasted like summer and freedom.
****Like mafia, but harder and less fun.
*****I did not ask him for input on his name, but it is highly fitting.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Spring Breakin'
Readers, I really need to start listening to the Boy when he tells me that I need to stop freaking out about something. Meeting his family/friends went incredibly well and I really liked all of them. He said they liked me, too, which is really good.
We drove up on Saturday and had dinner with his parents and hung out with some of his childhood friends. On Sunday we visited his mom at work (she manages a very nice but very over-priced retail store) and went to see Act of Valor at one of those fancy new movie theatres that let you eat dinner and have alcohol. Can I just express to you what a genius idea this is? Because it is. It's right up there with Redbox, Netflix, and Sheetz (a new experience for me--it's a gas station with a full-service, made-to-order restaurant inside. It's not gourmet, but it's pretty damn good for a gas station).
Monday we headed in to DC where we met up with the Boy's college roommate, who is a legislative aid for some Congressman whose name escapes me at the moment. Congress was out, so he was able to take a few hours and give us a tour and we got to sit on the floor of the House! I realize that it's pretty nerdy how excited I got about that, but it's pretty cool. After the Capitol, we went to the Air and Space museum where I learned that I am not a natural at flying planes. And that the simulator workers are sexist. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't be the pilot! After that we had dinner and drinks with his frat brothers and I met his roommate's fiance. She was very nice, and as much as I like hanging out with the guys, it was nice to have another girl around. Tuesday we went to the International Spy Museum, which was awesome, and did the spy adventure, which was not awesome. After that we headed to the Natural History Museum and saw an exhibit on evolution and the dinosaurs and the Hope Diamond and other pretty, sparkly things. Unfortunately, we only had about an hour and a half there before they closed (we spent too much time in the gift shop of the Spy Museum. The Boy was enthralled.). Then we went to dinner again and went back to his friends' house where I lost horribly at Super Smash (as always). Wednesday we saw the Washington and Lincoln Memorials and the outside of the Whitehouse, and then drove back to his parents'. We lost at their regular Wednesday night trivia.
Thursday we went shopping because the Boy needed new dress clothes for the summer (he will be helping out on the project I am working on, and we need to wear business casual clothes to run subjects). After that, we went trap shooting, (I know what you're thinking, readers. Me? Guns? What? but it wasn't like that), and I did surprisingly well, considering it was my first time ever holding a gun. It was also surprisingly fun (at least, when I was hitting things). I was, once again, amazed and impressed by the Boy's athletic ability. It really is unfair how good he is at basically everything. His dad and I spent a few hours talking about how good he is at sports. It's just isn't fair. I know I'm gushing a bit, but the guy is incredibly athletic (and it really is effortless for him), and he's smarter than I am (and kind and humble enough to deny it every time I tell him so), and he's cute to boot. And has a great family. He's quite the catch. After that, we had some dinner and then his friends came over and we played cards until way too late (like 4 AM late).
Friday was a lazy day... we watched some Walking Dead and read a bit and then went to dinner with his dad and came back and watched some Modern Family, which is just hilarious. On Saturday, we packed up and headed back home.
Amazingly enough, we didn't fight, we aren't sick of each other, and really, it was nice to spend so much time together and not feel the need to chatter or be doing something constantly. We could just sit around and enjoy each others' company in silence while we were driving or reading or just relaxing. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable at all. Maybe it's because we're still in that honeymoon phase, but I'm never able to spend that much time with someone without getting sick of them.
Bestie gets in on Friday, and I am terribly excited to see her. Expect another post about our shenanigans.
At the end of the month, I go home to throw my other friend a Bachelorette party, and I'm super excited. If it weren't for midterms, I think March might just be my favorite month.
We drove up on Saturday and had dinner with his parents and hung out with some of his childhood friends. On Sunday we visited his mom at work (she manages a very nice but very over-priced retail store) and went to see Act of Valor at one of those fancy new movie theatres that let you eat dinner and have alcohol. Can I just express to you what a genius idea this is? Because it is. It's right up there with Redbox, Netflix, and Sheetz (a new experience for me--it's a gas station with a full-service, made-to-order restaurant inside. It's not gourmet, but it's pretty damn good for a gas station).
Monday we headed in to DC where we met up with the Boy's college roommate, who is a legislative aid for some Congressman whose name escapes me at the moment. Congress was out, so he was able to take a few hours and give us a tour and we got to sit on the floor of the House! I realize that it's pretty nerdy how excited I got about that, but it's pretty cool. After the Capitol, we went to the Air and Space museum where I learned that I am not a natural at flying planes. And that the simulator workers are sexist. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't be the pilot! After that we had dinner and drinks with his frat brothers and I met his roommate's fiance. She was very nice, and as much as I like hanging out with the guys, it was nice to have another girl around. Tuesday we went to the International Spy Museum, which was awesome, and did the spy adventure, which was not awesome. After that we headed to the Natural History Museum and saw an exhibit on evolution and the dinosaurs and the Hope Diamond and other pretty, sparkly things. Unfortunately, we only had about an hour and a half there before they closed (we spent too much time in the gift shop of the Spy Museum. The Boy was enthralled.). Then we went to dinner again and went back to his friends' house where I lost horribly at Super Smash (as always). Wednesday we saw the Washington and Lincoln Memorials and the outside of the Whitehouse, and then drove back to his parents'. We lost at their regular Wednesday night trivia.
Thursday we went shopping because the Boy needed new dress clothes for the summer (he will be helping out on the project I am working on, and we need to wear business casual clothes to run subjects). After that, we went trap shooting, (I know what you're thinking, readers. Me? Guns? What? but it wasn't like that), and I did surprisingly well, considering it was my first time ever holding a gun. It was also surprisingly fun (at least, when I was hitting things). I was, once again, amazed and impressed by the Boy's athletic ability. It really is unfair how good he is at basically everything. His dad and I spent a few hours talking about how good he is at sports. It's just isn't fair. I know I'm gushing a bit, but the guy is incredibly athletic (and it really is effortless for him), and he's smarter than I am (and kind and humble enough to deny it every time I tell him so), and he's cute to boot. And has a great family. He's quite the catch. After that, we had some dinner and then his friends came over and we played cards until way too late (like 4 AM late).
Friday was a lazy day... we watched some Walking Dead and read a bit and then went to dinner with his dad and came back and watched some Modern Family, which is just hilarious. On Saturday, we packed up and headed back home.
Amazingly enough, we didn't fight, we aren't sick of each other, and really, it was nice to spend so much time together and not feel the need to chatter or be doing something constantly. We could just sit around and enjoy each others' company in silence while we were driving or reading or just relaxing. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable at all. Maybe it's because we're still in that honeymoon phase, but I'm never able to spend that much time with someone without getting sick of them.
Bestie gets in on Friday, and I am terribly excited to see her. Expect another post about our shenanigans.
At the end of the month, I go home to throw my other friend a Bachelorette party, and I'm super excited. If it weren't for midterms, I think March might just be my favorite month.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Tequila. I need tequila.
I should not be updating. I should be midterming. Or reacting. Or packing. Or cleaning.
I'm stupid busy, readers. And I was getting things done like a boss, at least until I made a run to Taco Bell for dinner. Which I shouldn't have done, because I'm fairly certain that Taco Bell isn't actual food (although it is the second best Mexican I've had since I moved here--how depressing is that???), and because it killed my momentum, and it was $6 that I didn't need to spend, but whatever. It's done.
My shit has been resolved, which is good, because I don't know how much longer I could have kept that up. My friends' shit is in the process of getting resolved, which is good, because I don't know how much longer I could keep up that level of worry about them.
Tomorrow I leave for Spring Break with The Boy. We're going to his hometown. I'm meeting everyone. I've been operating at a low-level panic attack for the last 36 hours or so. I don't know what to wear, I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do, but I do know that I'm pretty sure this is the most nervous I've been about meeting anyone, ever. Since this is an exercise in introspection, let's unpack why, shall we?
1) I have bf's family PTSD from my college boyfriend. They hated me. It was supremely unpleasant.
2) Because of the extreme unpleasantness of being hated, I've decided I'm not opening that can of worms again. The next time I have such a contentious, toxic relationship (or even one half as bad), I'm bailing.
3) The thought that that could happen, for reals (even if it is unlikely and I'm being completely irrational and a total nutcase), is a troubling thought, because it puts an expiration date on our relationship. I don't want an expiration date. Recent events made me realize I'm way more attached than I thought I was.
4) Being attached is very scary business, indeed.
5) Meeting the family/friends is a big deal. So far, we've existed in this nice bubble of our mutual friends who have no frame of reference for our past selves or past relationships, but meeting people who have known him his whole life have all of these expectations about who/what is good for him, and they will be evaluating me from that mindset. Having Bestie come out in 2 weeks does the same thing. Taking us out of our protective bubble is scary. It makes things more real. It raises the stakes.
6) I'm not saying I want to marry him, because I am so not there. But I might be, someday. And this meeting the family thing, it seems like a step in that direction. And if I take him home with me in a couple of months, that's another step.
7) I will say, I think this is a good nervous. And I really like that he isn't nervous. He isn't worried about the disaster that I'm picturing. It's reassuring.
8) I am super excited for the weather. It's gonna be 80(!) on Wednesday.
In other news, I was starting to feel good about school until midterms hit this week. I just feel like there is so much. And stats class last semester basically shredded my confidence. I enjoy it more this semester, but I don't know that I'm actually doing very well at all. We shall see after I get my first assignment back. I will say that I have a total lady crush on my professor, though. She's like the most awesome person, ever. And I actually understand her when she speaks, which is nice. I need to finish my Developmental midterm and my reaction for Personality, both of which need to be done in 14 hours and 21 minutes. Oy.
In other, other, aforementioned news, Bestie is coming in 2 weeks. I die. Really. We will be seeing the Hunger Games and going to a Darty (day-drinking party) and engaging in general shenanigans. So excited.
I'm stupid busy, readers. And I was getting things done like a boss, at least until I made a run to Taco Bell for dinner. Which I shouldn't have done, because I'm fairly certain that Taco Bell isn't actual food (although it is the second best Mexican I've had since I moved here--how depressing is that???), and because it killed my momentum, and it was $6 that I didn't need to spend, but whatever. It's done.
My shit has been resolved, which is good, because I don't know how much longer I could have kept that up. My friends' shit is in the process of getting resolved, which is good, because I don't know how much longer I could keep up that level of worry about them.
Tomorrow I leave for Spring Break with The Boy. We're going to his hometown. I'm meeting everyone. I've been operating at a low-level panic attack for the last 36 hours or so. I don't know what to wear, I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do, but I do know that I'm pretty sure this is the most nervous I've been about meeting anyone, ever. Since this is an exercise in introspection, let's unpack why, shall we?
1) I have bf's family PTSD from my college boyfriend. They hated me. It was supremely unpleasant.
2) Because of the extreme unpleasantness of being hated, I've decided I'm not opening that can of worms again. The next time I have such a contentious, toxic relationship (or even one half as bad), I'm bailing.
3) The thought that that could happen, for reals (even if it is unlikely and I'm being completely irrational and a total nutcase), is a troubling thought, because it puts an expiration date on our relationship. I don't want an expiration date. Recent events made me realize I'm way more attached than I thought I was.
4) Being attached is very scary business, indeed.
5) Meeting the family/friends is a big deal. So far, we've existed in this nice bubble of our mutual friends who have no frame of reference for our past selves or past relationships, but meeting people who have known him his whole life have all of these expectations about who/what is good for him, and they will be evaluating me from that mindset. Having Bestie come out in 2 weeks does the same thing. Taking us out of our protective bubble is scary. It makes things more real. It raises the stakes.
6) I'm not saying I want to marry him, because I am so not there. But I might be, someday. And this meeting the family thing, it seems like a step in that direction. And if I take him home with me in a couple of months, that's another step.
7) I will say, I think this is a good nervous. And I really like that he isn't nervous. He isn't worried about the disaster that I'm picturing. It's reassuring.
8) I am super excited for the weather. It's gonna be 80(!) on Wednesday.
In other news, I was starting to feel good about school until midterms hit this week. I just feel like there is so much. And stats class last semester basically shredded my confidence. I enjoy it more this semester, but I don't know that I'm actually doing very well at all. We shall see after I get my first assignment back. I will say that I have a total lady crush on my professor, though. She's like the most awesome person, ever. And I actually understand her when she speaks, which is nice. I need to finish my Developmental midterm and my reaction for Personality, both of which need to be done in 14 hours and 21 minutes. Oy.
In other, other, aforementioned news, Bestie is coming in 2 weeks. I die. Really. We will be seeing the Hunger Games and going to a Darty (day-drinking party) and engaging in general shenanigans. So excited.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
The shit hath hitteth the fan. Ith. -->
So as recent events have unfolded (and again, I am not at liberty to discuss other peoples' shit on the internet, just know that it exists, and for the purposes of this post, I am not going to talk about my own shit in detail other than to complain), I have really come to understand the importance of developing and maintaining strong support systems. It's important to have people, both near and far, who will be there for you when the shit hits the fan. Because it will. It's important to be the kind of person that cultivates relationships with people you want to support and who will support you.
And it's important to have a SYSTEM, a NETWORK. Not a single support person. You can't support an entire roof with one beam. You need to have a few people who can help. You need to be willing to be vulnerable with multiple people, because one person can't take on all your shit. And you need to be part of a lot of people's support systems. You need to be the kind of person that people count on when things get hard, because it's only fair to return the favor. And it does make you appreciate your life more, in a schadenfreude-y kind of way. (And friends with shit--I am not rejoicing in your pain. Really, I'm not.)
And I just want to say that I appreciate the support systems that I have in my life, both here, and back home, and in other, random places. I appreciate that I can call you guys when things go wrong, and you'll talk me through it. You'll give me hugs and ice cream and make it better, and I would be in pretty bad shape if it wasn't for all of you.
That being said, I need to get some freaking sleep. And that sleep needs to not be interrupted by nightmares, because I can barely form a coherent sentence. And it took me approximately 6 hours to get through 2 articles and my reaction paper is truly terrible. Truly. I am sorry, advisor, for the giant, steaming pile of disappointment that this reaction paper is going to be. I also have not been eating much, because I have no appetite because I am unhappy and when I am unhappy I am not hungry at best and nauseous at worst, and when I can muster up the will to eat, everything tastes like sand. It's really throwing me off, this being starving and exhausted thing. And apparently, it's becoming obvious to the people around me that I am unhappy, considering like 6 people did a double take at my barely-any-makeup and seriously-fuckit hairstyle and the 4 pounds that I've lost in the last week and the fact that I didn't have the energy to wear real pants to school on Tuesday (yoga pants are acceptable attire for grad school, right?) and asked me what's wrong.
I'm trying to remember high school when I was this unhappy on a regular basis and how I did not die. I either need to become better at regulating my emotions or forcing my body to do my will and sleep and eat like a normal person.
Srsly, y'all, my brain is dying. It's not quite so dead that I have reached a level of denial about how terrible my work has been and how badly I need to do my damn hair and wear real pants, but it's getting there.
And it's important to have a SYSTEM, a NETWORK. Not a single support person. You can't support an entire roof with one beam. You need to have a few people who can help. You need to be willing to be vulnerable with multiple people, because one person can't take on all your shit. And you need to be part of a lot of people's support systems. You need to be the kind of person that people count on when things get hard, because it's only fair to return the favor. And it does make you appreciate your life more, in a schadenfreude-y kind of way. (And friends with shit--I am not rejoicing in your pain. Really, I'm not.)
And I just want to say that I appreciate the support systems that I have in my life, both here, and back home, and in other, random places. I appreciate that I can call you guys when things go wrong, and you'll talk me through it. You'll give me hugs and ice cream and make it better, and I would be in pretty bad shape if it wasn't for all of you.
That being said, I need to get some freaking sleep. And that sleep needs to not be interrupted by nightmares, because I can barely form a coherent sentence. And it took me approximately 6 hours to get through 2 articles and my reaction paper is truly terrible. Truly. I am sorry, advisor, for the giant, steaming pile of disappointment that this reaction paper is going to be. I also have not been eating much, because I have no appetite because I am unhappy and when I am unhappy I am not hungry at best and nauseous at worst, and when I can muster up the will to eat, everything tastes like sand. It's really throwing me off, this being starving and exhausted thing. And apparently, it's becoming obvious to the people around me that I am unhappy, considering like 6 people did a double take at my barely-any-makeup and seriously-fuckit hairstyle and the 4 pounds that I've lost in the last week and the fact that I didn't have the energy to wear real pants to school on Tuesday (yoga pants are acceptable attire for grad school, right?) and asked me what's wrong.
I'm trying to remember high school when I was this unhappy on a regular basis and how I did not die. I either need to become better at regulating my emotions or forcing my body to do my will and sleep and eat like a normal person.
Srsly, y'all, my brain is dying. It's not quite so dead that I have reached a level of denial about how terrible my work has been and how badly I need to do my damn hair and wear real pants, but it's getting there.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Random Musings
Note to self:
Do not miss class. When you miss class (even for a conference!) you end up stuck presenting on the DNA article, which you don't understand, even a little bit.
So I'm procrastinating reading that article, because really, who wants to read about epigenesis? Not me, that's who. I'm just having trouble focusing in general. I have a million things I could focus on, and not all of them are boring or difficult. I could, for example, start trying to plan the bachelorette party, which would be fun. I like parties. I like planning. But, alas, I have the attention span of a tweaked-out toddler right now. Also, the concept of planning something from 2500 miles away does provide some degree of difficulty.
I am in the mood for adventuring, but I don't even know where to begin. And it's still cold. I feel like it is much easier to be adventurous when it is warm. And adventuring tends to cost money, which is something that grad students don't have in abundance.
I've noticed that I've been particularly touchy about people/things/comments/comics that are objectifying lately. I feel like that is probably something that I should look into more. I think the whole idea of seeing sex, and by extension, people, as commodities, is really upsetting to me. My Christian Friends might even call it a "Holy Discontent". I really need to sort out my thoughts about God/the Church/my Faith/how I feel about Eternity/etc., but that seems to be wrapped up in therapy, which takes time, energy, and money that I don't really have right now. I do know that in the short run it will take a lot of time, energy, and money, but in the long run fixing those and other issues will create more time, energy and (maybe) money, but I just don't think I'm ready to make that short-term investment yet. I'll get there eventually. I think. I usually come around to the things that are best for me after some time.
Trying to lose weight is such a pain. All the things I really like to eat are high-calorie and not very filling. Being mindful kinda blows, because then you have to hold yourself accountable to your higher-order goals, and there isn't much I like less than being accountable. And it originally flew off, but then I gained some of it back, and I'm trying to get back down again. And exercising is just not working out for me that well. I'm too tired to wake up early and do it, and I would totally do it in the afternoon/evening, but I'm too lazy to shower and do my hair/makeup again, so I don't. And the Dr.'s office has not called me back about a referral for a sleep study, because, let's face it--my sleeping is disordered somehow.
I want to see my friends back home. I want people who speak my language. I feel like I'm less homesick than I was when I first got here, but now it seems like the little things are starting to pile up a little bit. It's like when I went on the pill--I was on a bad one for me, and while it did eliminate my crazy moodswings, it lowered my baseline annoyance level. Everything that used to bother me before now still bothers me, but I am somehow less capable of letting it roll off my back. It's like having a scab that you can't stop picking at. It won't heal unless you leave it alone, but it seems like a lot of things here just pick at the scab. No one speaks my language, or at least, no one here is as fluent in my language as the people back home. I feel like a loser complaining about it though, because it isn't that bad. It really isn't. I generally like the people and stuff here, but some little things are just... annoying.
I was glad that the Giants won last night. I feel bad for Eli, everyone always says he's the lesser man, the lesser QB compared to his brother. And that's just sad. It must suck to be great, but not as great as your brother. But now he has more rings than Payton, so maybe people will leave him alone. I made mom's salsa, and everyone loved it. Big surprise. People always love her salsa.
I would really like to cook more, but I run into 2 main problems: I'm tired at the end of the day, and I feel like it really isn't worth the effort to cook for one. Eating the same thing for a week gets old. So I tend to cook more when I am cooking/eating with the Boy, but that's still only like twice a week. Le sigh. Oh well. I really should work now.
Do not miss class. When you miss class (even for a conference!) you end up stuck presenting on the DNA article, which you don't understand, even a little bit.
So I'm procrastinating reading that article, because really, who wants to read about epigenesis? Not me, that's who. I'm just having trouble focusing in general. I have a million things I could focus on, and not all of them are boring or difficult. I could, for example, start trying to plan the bachelorette party, which would be fun. I like parties. I like planning. But, alas, I have the attention span of a tweaked-out toddler right now. Also, the concept of planning something from 2500 miles away does provide some degree of difficulty.
I am in the mood for adventuring, but I don't even know where to begin. And it's still cold. I feel like it is much easier to be adventurous when it is warm. And adventuring tends to cost money, which is something that grad students don't have in abundance.
I've noticed that I've been particularly touchy about people/things/comments/comics that are objectifying lately. I feel like that is probably something that I should look into more. I think the whole idea of seeing sex, and by extension, people, as commodities, is really upsetting to me. My Christian Friends might even call it a "Holy Discontent". I really need to sort out my thoughts about God/the Church/my Faith/how I feel about Eternity/etc., but that seems to be wrapped up in therapy, which takes time, energy, and money that I don't really have right now. I do know that in the short run it will take a lot of time, energy, and money, but in the long run fixing those and other issues will create more time, energy and (maybe) money, but I just don't think I'm ready to make that short-term investment yet. I'll get there eventually. I think. I usually come around to the things that are best for me after some time.
Trying to lose weight is such a pain. All the things I really like to eat are high-calorie and not very filling. Being mindful kinda blows, because then you have to hold yourself accountable to your higher-order goals, and there isn't much I like less than being accountable. And it originally flew off, but then I gained some of it back, and I'm trying to get back down again. And exercising is just not working out for me that well. I'm too tired to wake up early and do it, and I would totally do it in the afternoon/evening, but I'm too lazy to shower and do my hair/makeup again, so I don't. And the Dr.'s office has not called me back about a referral for a sleep study, because, let's face it--my sleeping is disordered somehow.
I want to see my friends back home. I want people who speak my language. I feel like I'm less homesick than I was when I first got here, but now it seems like the little things are starting to pile up a little bit. It's like when I went on the pill--I was on a bad one for me, and while it did eliminate my crazy moodswings, it lowered my baseline annoyance level. Everything that used to bother me before now still bothers me, but I am somehow less capable of letting it roll off my back. It's like having a scab that you can't stop picking at. It won't heal unless you leave it alone, but it seems like a lot of things here just pick at the scab. No one speaks my language, or at least, no one here is as fluent in my language as the people back home. I feel like a loser complaining about it though, because it isn't that bad. It really isn't. I generally like the people and stuff here, but some little things are just... annoying.
I was glad that the Giants won last night. I feel bad for Eli, everyone always says he's the lesser man, the lesser QB compared to his brother. And that's just sad. It must suck to be great, but not as great as your brother. But now he has more rings than Payton, so maybe people will leave him alone. I made mom's salsa, and everyone loved it. Big surprise. People always love her salsa.
I would really like to cook more, but I run into 2 main problems: I'm tired at the end of the day, and I feel like it really isn't worth the effort to cook for one. Eating the same thing for a week gets old. So I tend to cook more when I am cooking/eating with the Boy, but that's still only like twice a week. Le sigh. Oh well. I really should work now.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Mama Bear
I'm a Mama Bear. I will freaking take care of you, whether you want it or not. Ask Bestie. Ask the Boy. I can't NOT do something when I see someone I care about in pain, whether it's physical, emotional, or mental. It's compulsive. I have this overwhelming urge to MAKE IT BETTER (imagine the girl rage comic here, because I am too lazy to go find one). Unfortunately, there is almost never anything I can do. The fact that there is nothing I can do to MAKE IT BETTER does not decrease the compulsion. In fact, it makes it worse. Imagine dunking Monk in a giant cesspool--it doesn't make his neuroses any better, in fact, it makes them a bajilliondy times worse (my spell checker is telling me bajilliondy is not a word. I disagree, spell checker, I disagree).
So I recently saw all my peeps from undergrad (yes, I am slightly inebriated as I type this, and that is why I am using words like "peeps". I might have had more wine than I should have on a relatively empty stomach at the colloquium reception tonight...don't judge). And the thing is, they're a little bit... they need a Mama Bear. Or, at least, this Mama Bear thinks so. Because of the fact that they are all independent people and it's their decision whether or not to share their shit with the internet, I'm not going to say why I think they need a Mama Bear, or who they are, but they do. They need someone who will give them hugs and who will kick some ass and who will just sit there and be quiet or talk about life and make jokes and tell them how absolutely fantastic they are (because, fo' realsies, they are. They are like amazing and a half. And I don't think they read this blog, because like I said, I think like 3 people do, and they aren't them, but if they ever stumble across it, I am stating for the record that they are bomb.com. And I have a very low alcohol tolerance. But seriously, they are catches, and they have options, and I count myself lucky to have them in my life.) . They need someone who speaks their language. And I just want to be that person for them, because it doesn't seem like anyone is being that, or the people that are aren't doing it enough, or there is some sort of hole that I wish I could fill for them. There is some degree of support or something that they aren't getting, and I want more than anything to be that, but I can't, because I am 2,500 miles away. (On a more selfish sidenote, I really miss them, too, because I miss having someone who speaks MY language.) And on a more realistic sidenote, I can't be that awesome level of support that I think that they need all the time, even if I was there, because I am only human. The logical extrapolation I would take from my Evangelical upbringing is that they need God/Jesus, but I am still kinda upset with the whole Trinity at the moment (although I am grateful for the miracle of the weekend, and did acknowledge it out loud and now in print), and besides that, they don't believe in Him/Them at all, and I just feel like mentioning that is fighting a losing battle anyway, so I feel like there is something else that can be done... but I still don't know what.
And my mother, and the Boy, and my friends here, they tell me I just need to calm the eff down, because I can't do anything, besides the occasional call or email. I can't hold their hands, I can't fight their battles, I can't bandage their emotional wounds. And the amount of anxiety I have for them--the worry that I do about them, it's just hurting me, and it isn't making them feel any better, and besides that, they can't even see how worried I am about them because they might as well be on the moon. There isn't anything I can do, so the answer is just to... what? Care less? Have you met me? I mean, really. Caring less is not something that I do. Really, I would love to have that ability. It's one of my New Year's Resolutions, but right now, I just don't know how to do it. Something in me refuses to believe that there is nothing I can do to MAKE IT BETTER.
Anyway, this post makes little to no sense. It contains little to no actual introspection, because I already knew I was this way (I did learn that I make more typos when I've been drinking though. Yay for spell check! And Yay is a word, dammit!), but it's something I feel like I need to get out. I will say that after I write something down in the blog, I do worry about it slightly less than I do when I just talk it out with Mom or Bestie or the Boy or whomever. Cosmo does say that journaling is good for the feelings and helps you lose weight (I can't find the article. Sorry). Anyway, now that pretty much everyone has commented on the dark circles and the apparent stress, I'm hoping that sending this out into the ether or the Universe or God or whatever is going to help.
So I recently saw all my peeps from undergrad (yes, I am slightly inebriated as I type this, and that is why I am using words like "peeps". I might have had more wine than I should have on a relatively empty stomach at the colloquium reception tonight...don't judge). And the thing is, they're a little bit... they need a Mama Bear. Or, at least, this Mama Bear thinks so. Because of the fact that they are all independent people and it's their decision whether or not to share their shit with the internet, I'm not going to say why I think they need a Mama Bear, or who they are, but they do. They need someone who will give them hugs and who will kick some ass and who will just sit there and be quiet or talk about life and make jokes and tell them how absolutely fantastic they are (because, fo' realsies, they are. They are like amazing and a half. And I don't think they read this blog, because like I said, I think like 3 people do, and they aren't them, but if they ever stumble across it, I am stating for the record that they are bomb.com. And I have a very low alcohol tolerance. But seriously, they are catches, and they have options, and I count myself lucky to have them in my life.) . They need someone who speaks their language. And I just want to be that person for them, because it doesn't seem like anyone is being that, or the people that are aren't doing it enough, or there is some sort of hole that I wish I could fill for them. There is some degree of support or something that they aren't getting, and I want more than anything to be that, but I can't, because I am 2,500 miles away. (On a more selfish sidenote, I really miss them, too, because I miss having someone who speaks MY language.) And on a more realistic sidenote, I can't be that awesome level of support that I think that they need all the time, even if I was there, because I am only human. The logical extrapolation I would take from my Evangelical upbringing is that they need God/Jesus, but I am still kinda upset with the whole Trinity at the moment (although I am grateful for the miracle of the weekend, and did acknowledge it out loud and now in print), and besides that, they don't believe in Him/Them at all, and I just feel like mentioning that is fighting a losing battle anyway, so I feel like there is something else that can be done... but I still don't know what.
And my mother, and the Boy, and my friends here, they tell me I just need to calm the eff down, because I can't do anything, besides the occasional call or email. I can't hold their hands, I can't fight their battles, I can't bandage their emotional wounds. And the amount of anxiety I have for them--the worry that I do about them, it's just hurting me, and it isn't making them feel any better, and besides that, they can't even see how worried I am about them because they might as well be on the moon. There isn't anything I can do, so the answer is just to... what? Care less? Have you met me? I mean, really. Caring less is not something that I do. Really, I would love to have that ability. It's one of my New Year's Resolutions, but right now, I just don't know how to do it. Something in me refuses to believe that there is nothing I can do to MAKE IT BETTER.
Anyway, this post makes little to no sense. It contains little to no actual introspection, because I already knew I was this way (I did learn that I make more typos when I've been drinking though. Yay for spell check! And Yay is a word, dammit!), but it's something I feel like I need to get out. I will say that after I write something down in the blog, I do worry about it slightly less than I do when I just talk it out with Mom or Bestie or the Boy or whomever. Cosmo does say that journaling is good for the feelings and helps you lose weight (I can't find the article. Sorry). Anyway, now that pretty much everyone has commented on the dark circles and the apparent stress, I'm hoping that sending this out into the ether or the Universe or God or whatever is going to help.
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