Un-bloggable

Life has just seemed usual lately. I suppose you can get used to anything.... Here are some tidbits for those to like to keep informed:

Michael visited me this weekend, as a surprise. I got home from rehearsal, and he was just there (he schemed with Jenn and Kath to get in without my knowing). We had a nice weekend of me dragging him to an 80's themed party for the dance department, a meeting for class, and watching bad movies on tv (as usual). Since I had no idea he was coming, it was super great. As much as I like to say I'm totally fine all alone, after about 6 weeks I start to flip (as if I hadn't already flipped this semester...). So a little refresher before the very hard road to Spring Break was great.

I'm moving along with the work on my independant project. The paper-work for using human subjects for research is almost done, I just need to find a form about informed consent. I've got a couple people signed up to participate. I've got protocols and logs all written up. It's really moving ahead, and I'm starting to get really excited.

I actually learned how to do my job as treasurer of Sigma Omicron (the dance academic fraternity). I can now deposit, withdraw, get checks cut for people. It's great. Except that I handed in a chunk of checks today (like $250 worth), all written out to me instead of to the college. So I had to go back and admit my mistake and sign all the checks over. Thankfully, the lady was happy I came back cause she hadn't caught the mistake, and it would have been more of a pain later. I just wish I hadn't felt like such a dork on my first excursion as Treasurer. Oh, and it totally smelled like somebody sprayed the entire hall with really bad tequila in the building I had to go to. No one else seemed to notice, but I was really aware of it. Gross.

I had to write up a proposal for my lab project (we are spending half the semester working on projects of our own design). I had to read papers, write the proposal, figure out protocals and stuff. It was hard, but thankfully I had this great girl in my group who does research with our prof, so she knew everything. I participated as much as I could, I even learned to do in-text citations (why had I never learned that before?), but it was nice to have someone who at least knew the writing style that was appropriate. Lots of work just to pour some aluminum on some cells.

I have moved into the realm of the way normal girls work out: I have begun to use the stair-stepper machine at the gym. I never did that before. It was kinda akward at first, but now I like it. I thought it woudl hurt way more, but it's really not that bad. Plus, I look totally cool in a line with all the other girls doing it in the aerobic workout room. We're awesome, way cooler that those eliptical-machine users. Oh man, though, there are all these girls on the machines that work your legs who hold themselves up by their arms. Do they realize they are ruining the point of the machine? If you hold yourself up while you run, you aren't getting the effect of the running. I'm not sure why that bugs me so much, but it really gets under my skin when people do that.

I went to the bank today to exchange some change for just quarters for laundry. I always seem to get this same teller girl with a Russian-esque accent. I'm not quite sure where she's from, but she looks very slavic and speaks with that heavy accent. I never quite seem to understand the policies at this bank (like you have to write a check to withdraw from your checking account, and you have to roll all your change if it fits in a roll cause they don't just take tons of loose change), and so we often have some really odd interactions. Everything seems to work out, but I always leave just wanting to have gone to the ATM. Today, I went in with my change, and I had apparently counted it wrong, not to mention that it wasn't rolled. So I rolled some, and she was counting some. But she was counting not in English, so I kept getting lost with her counting, then she kept coming up with these crazy numbers. Like she'd count my 11 nickles, then say "15 cents" all confident. So much work for just $3 in quarters. I eventually just gave in and asked for just $2 in quarters, and took all the rest back.
Moral of this blog: I'm not good with money.

Valentines Day flowers

Poem

My brother in law Ryan likes to send me poems. He often sends me these ingenious rhymes, they really should get published or made into songs. He also likes to call me while driving home from work and leave me long messages of him singing along with various songs. "Go 'head, girl, go 'head get down" is one of the ones he sings to me most often. It's very amusing to come home to such a message.
Today, instead of sending me a brilliant rhyme, or calling me with a screamed rendition of a song I may have used to like before he called me, he wrote me a nice poem. Here it is, for all to enjoy. Maybe it will make you smile like I did.

Sunshine, sunshine
Fills up my eyes
Rainbows, rainbows
Fill up the skies
Puppies, puppies
So soft and so cute
Nice things, nice things
I like nice things

And you are nice.

By Ryan Haack

Better

I guess I'm better. A little, at least. I'm still scared out of my mind about life after graduation. I'm still over-booked and under-rested. I'm still dealing with issues of friends and boyfriends. But I'm not crying constantly or yelling at nothing any more. Mama says she cried a lot in college, too, she just chooses now to tell the stories of the more fun times. This last week definitely won't go on the tell-a-lot list.
I watched some of Beauty and the Beast last night. It was awesome. I stopped before the scary part with the Beast hunting, so I didnt' have to get all upset. But it was so fun, I remember all the words to the songs, I remember being awed at the computer graphics in the ball room that now look so lame compared to newer stuff, I remember exactly what parts I was happy or terrified of in the theater the first time I saw it. My friend this summer wanted to go see the stage show, I'm glad I didn't cause it could never be the magical ride of the movie. Seeing people running around in teapot costumes just doesn't have the same flair.
I have my first exam of the semester this Wednesday. I'm really liking the class, the material is fascinating. But the book is a graduate level text. So it makes absolutely no sense. My usual studying regimen is to read the book chapters, then go back and compare the things I read to my notes. This time, I'm not even comprehending the chapters. Did we even learn the stuff the book is talking about? So many big words, so few explanations. It makes me happy I'm not going into grad school for science. I would be slaughtered in no time.
Kathleen and I saw "Good Night, and Good Luck" on Saturday. It was really good. The cinematography was cool, it totally looked like an old movie. The actors were very well cast, each one stepping out of a regular role for them and into this real life character. The soundtrack is awesome, with this fabulous jazz singer. The topic is also very well handled, a political commentary shrouded by historical presentation. The story is well played out, not too Hollywood-ed. It was great, overall. Dad, if you haven't seen it, totally put it on your list.
So, as you can see, not everything is horrible. I'm healthy over all, things are getting done slowly but surely, the friends I have are here when I need them, I have a break next week. I'll be just fine, once somebody tells me exactly what the rest of my life will be like.

I'm pretty bad, how are you?

If you think I have it all together, please do not read this post. It will be personal and probably rather depressing.


It's been a very hard few weeks. This semester is supposed to be the end, the culmination, the exclamation point on my collage career. Rather, it is the dregs, the most frantic and stressful period of my life since I got to Hope. I am learning or rehearsing a piece for 5 out of the 6 dance facutly, and am supposed to start work on my own final choreography project to be presented in April. I have one "real" class, that I want to love and enjoy the fun of learning new things, but am so distracted by my other things and my bodily weariness that I cannot enjoy it at all. I will probably be taking it Pass/Fail by next week, so I can enjoy it while not worrying about getting an A. I am doing an independant study project, which involves tons of literature research, a hands-on study of the dancers on campus, and then a big paper. I haven't even gotten to writing a proposal for the study as a whole. I am in class 8 hours a day, with at least 3 if not 6 hours of rehearsal afterwards. And yes, I am still teaching ballet. Today, it was too much.

I'm so tired. Tired of running around without even time to eat a real meal. Tired of going to bed with 8 carefully planned hours in which to sleep, where I waste 6 of them staring at the dark ceiling. Tired of pretending that I have enough energy to get through a class or a rehearsal without wanting to collapse with my head between my knees. Tired of being "excited" about my housemates's wedding plans, or preliminary wedding plans, or anti-wedding plans. Tired of needing to distract myself so I forget the person who usually keeps me anchored is 700 miles away. Tired of learning about the lives of my niece and nephews, my siblings, and my parents through emails, blogs, and electronic pictures. Tired of weather which can't make up its mind whether to be hot, cold, wet, or snowy. Even the days with sun are illogical and grating, with no pattern to their coming or their temperature. Tired of claiming my friends as my favorite people, and then getting nothing out of the relationships but chance meetings and undercurrents of hostility. Tired of being strong.

Tomorrow life will be better. I'll drag myself out of bed, put in lots of eye drops to keep my eyeballs from popping out of my head, suit up in the leotard and tights I've been avoiding for years, and go to class without a second thought. I'll leave a message for Mike in the 5 minutes I'm home in the afternoon, and hope I might actually get time to hear about his day before I fall exhausted into bed. I'll tell myself I'll run those errands that need to be done, see the people that need to be seen, but will really be holed up in here when I'm not at some planned event. I'll greet everyone with a "Hi! Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired."

Somtimes the last thing you want comes in first
Sometimes the first thing you want never comes
I know the waiting is all you can do sometimes