SWINE FLU!!!

Yes, the swine won. I somehow have come down with the H1N1 virus. And besides the full-body aches and vomiting, how cool is it to say I got the swine flu! hahaha

screw you piggies.
screw you and your families.

:-)

moo cows, determination, and fatigue

Despite the fact that I got only around four to five hours of sleep last night, a scant amount relative to the eight to ten hours I normally can knock out for, I'm oddly awake. I definitely don't have that healthy sort of awake feeling, but instead, I feel like I'm racing myself to see how long I'll last - but in the race, I'm energized and alert, my mind is crisp while my body feels like its being overworked, even though I'm doing nearly no physical activity at the moment. So, I kind of like this, because it creates this like pseudo-exigency to my day. Adrenaline and caffeine are doing the job that REM sleep is supposed to right about now.....

So along with that, this is day two of my newest venture - no more moo cows, piggies, chickies, duckies, little bo peep's sheep, whatever. I want to become vegetarian, but at least for the mean time, I'm still allowing fish and other seafood, which I guess that means that technically I'm pescatarian. As of yet, it hasn't been so hard. I've been lessening the amount of meat i eat over the past few months anyway, so its becoming much easier for me to do without it and actually feel satisfied.

I wanted to rant some more about things, but I have to at least make an attempt at my French assignment, so until next time.....

au revoir :-)

knocked up, family guy, and revelations

I thought she was mad at me. I thought he was a judgmental, uncaring old man. I thought I would never like the movie "Knocked Up." I thought that "Family Guy" was a crude, albeit funny, comedy show put together by less-than-intellectual individuals. And most of all, I thought I'd be fast asleep dreaming by now, at 1:42 am, but instead, I'm sitting here watching TV thinking about all the things I thought I knew.

I'm watching Inside the Actors Studio hosted by the infamous Will Ferrell target, James Lipton. Tonight, unlike other episodes I've seen (which isn't many), Lipton is interviewing the cast of "Family Guy." And these people, Seth MacFarlane (creator and animator, also voice of Peter, Stewie, Quagmire, and others), Alex Borstein (voice of Lois, also stars on MadTV), Seth Green, Mila Kunis, and Mike Henry, are all smart, very smart and witty and candid. Many have attended prestigious schools, such as RISD and Washington and Lee, and exhibit the type of dedication and passion for their craft that any person could ever hope to have for their work. And for some reason, I was not expecting this. Why not? I've learned now that comedians are some of the most brilliant people around (well, maybe I shouldn't get carried away, but truly, these people take their funny work seriously).

Before I came home to watch Actors Studio, I watched "Knocked Up" with my best guy friend. I didn't want to watch it - most of the movies they had were either action or horror, which I don't mind, but i wanted something at least close to "feel good." So I guessed this one sounded like it would do. And though I had heard this was just another sexist, careless, chauvinistic film that reinforced problemsome male behavior, I was pleasantly surprised. I actually, my feelings and reactions ran the gamut, beginning with curiosity, then general entertainment, sadness, irritation, up to anger, back down to frustration, pride, and finally, happiness. In the end, the stoner-loser who gets the beautiful, successful blonde pregnant becomes a committed father and boyfriend, despite the rocky road traveled to get to that point. And this surprised me. And made me happy. :-)

There are other things that I was completely wrong about today, and most other days, but instead of feeling defeated I feel fortunate for the little slaps in the face that life affords me. Some of these make me cry, others make me smile so big that I nearly think my checks are about to pop. But it is what it is. And I'm very tired...watching Taxi Cab Confessions from 2001. So I think this is my cue to say "adieu."

Farewell and fair wishes.

last year at USI and technical difficulties

I've officially started my last year of undergraduate education, not with a bang, but with a horrendous cold and tardiness. Other than that, I'm swell. :-)

My computer is fixed for the most part, so I'll now start on the tedious task of collecting music for my iTunes (so to fill the 10 gig emptiness that now exists because USI's tech crew screwed me over).

Now onto hacking into my neighbors' internet connections, which is the last phase in fixing my technical dilemmas. Then, I will be able to go online. And blog more.

And the crowd cheers...."yay....."

PMS and the quest for happiness

Still in South Carolina. Most likely PMS-ing.

And I'm experiencing a boat-load of awkwardness as I'm listening to a documentary on sex with my best friend's dad while he's working on assembling a file cabinet. I know now that the first vibrators were steam-powered. And that condoms used to be made out of sheeps intestines.

I really miss my kittens, my mom, and my friends - in that order. I don't miss CrApplebees. Not at all. Not one bit.

So I've been thinking a good deal this weekend about what I want to do after I graduate, a topic that called for a couple of ibuprofen once my mom decided to weigh in on my deliberation. I have my aspirations narrowed to a handful of options: obtain my TEFL or TESOL license/certificate and teach abroad, enter into a graduate program for rhetoric, or go on to study international relations. No matter which one of these I decide on, I know that I want to take a year off, which is inconceivable and irresponsible according to my mom. I'd like to move away from what I'm used to, take some time to take stock of my life and improve my writing. Maybe, just maybe, Holly and I could spend the year doing missionary work in some impoverished South American country. That would be spectacular. Or I could continue to serve at restaurants for a series of months....oh, the horror......

This is all very stressful to me. So, to combat the anxiety and unease, I've been reading Bertrand Russell's "The Conquest of Happiness." And though it is categorized as both 'philosophy' and 'self-help,' I'd like to think that it goes beyond the sort of love-yourself-doggonit, empty advice that is characteristic of so many materials in the genre of self-improvement.

The layout of the book is such: Russell begins by describing likely causes of unhappiness, such as boredom, envy, and the fear of public opinion, then concludes with causes of happiness, some relating to zest, affection, and the family, for instance. As of now, I'm only at the beginning of the 'zest' chapter, but already, I feel that I've learned a lot about myself and my life by reading about the suppossed ailments of the human condition, the misery of the modern man, the causes of unhappiness.

I guess I'll let ya know how the rest of the read goes.

Maybe this quest will lead to something that feels more like real, substantial happiness.
Just maybe, maybe it's not so far away. :-)

southern comfort and heat exhaustion

After a hiatus of about a fortnight or so (gotta love using esoteric expressions), I'm back! And in the lovely state of South Carolina with my bestest, Susan. I've also made a resolution, one that has come to me with great ease since traveling 600+ miles away from Evansville. For right now, for when I return to Evansville, and in the rest of my adventures, I've decided to be happy. Why not? A sentiment from a good friend of mine reminded me to keep my head up, stay smiling. So that's what I'm gonna do. :-)

So long for now amigos.

too much myself

Lately I've been carrying with me feelings of disease and disillusion, so much so that I'm constantly reshaping my views on the world, on myself, my relationships, my ambitions, my values. I thought I'd already been through this before. Wasn't that post-high school "coming out of your shell" experience surely past? Haven't I already grasped who I am as an individual? Don't I know what I want already?

Apparently, not.

Shouldn't I want stability? Is it so bad to want to be comfortable? Considering my past, I would think these things essential. And I thought I had achieved this state, but what kind of achievement is this anyway? One of settlement and dashed dreams? One of a predilection to loss? There is something to be said for comfort: I enjoy the comfortable autumn weather, eating macaroni and cheese, wearing flip-flops, getting a good night's rest. But what about the heat of summer? Stinging sun and sweat-strewn bodies, exhilaration and rejuvenation. And how about linguine in a cheesy cream sauce with shrimp and scallops and seasonings and such and Mmmmm. And I like wearing high heels. Sometimes. If they are black and shiny with pretty studded rhinestones on the side. But most of all, staying up all night, drinking, dancing, laughing, snacking, conversing, chilling, then looking out at the twilight sky, the responsibilities of the day on the horizon, the thrill of the night still fresh amongst hazy atmosphere.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. And I'm not sure what I'm doing at all (insert chuckle). But maybe this is just me.

frustration and imitation

As my laptop is yet in the hands of my now (ex) boyfriend, I cannot write this on the privacy of my comfy couch. Instead, I'm currently in the computer lab at my apartment complex, which I thought would prove superfluous, along with the tennis courts, tanning bed, swimming pool, billiards room, and basketball goals - but I was sorely mistaken. I actually like using most of these things, as I damn well should, considering I'm taking out excess loans to live here (though it's worth it in my opinion). The abundance of trees and westside location sold me. Maybe it is all a bit much...

ANYWAY, I digress.

So, getting back to life and such. Richie and I broke it off, in a surprisingly mutual and civil manner I might add. Though I made the late-night-sobby-text the next evening, which is to be expected from someone as over-emotional and hyper-sensitive as me. And now he is fixing my laptop. The absence of such a seemingly marginal possession has been extremely frustrating for me, since I am sort of an internet junkie, along with being addicted to my iTunes library. But I'm able to use the computers at school and the ones here, so my situation isn't all that desperate.

Speaking of school, the reason I wanted to post today is because I just turned in an extra credit assignment for Dr. Rivers' rhetoric class today that I think is pretty jazzy. He calls it "creative imitations," where an excerpt from a written piece is re-written on an (ideally) completely different subject matter, using not more than 20 to 25% of the original words, keeping the same sentence structure and style.

And I wanted to share mine.
So here it is. :-)


Original (Philip Caputo’s A Rumor of War, Page 18)

Whenever I think back to those days at Basic School, the recollection that first comes to mind is always the same: A double file of green-clad men, bent beneath their packs, are tramping down a dirt road. A remorseless sun is beating down. Raised by our boots, a cloud of red dust powders the trees alongside the road, making them look sickly and ashen. The dust clings to our uniforms, runs in muddy streaks down our sweating faces. There is the rattle of rifle slings and bayonet scabbards, the clattering of mess kits bouncing in our haversacks. Our heads ache from the weight of steel helmets, and the cry “Close it up, keep your interval, close it up” is echoing up and down the long column.

Imitation

Whenever I think back to my days at parochial school, the memory that remains clearest in my mind is always the same: row after row of uniformed boys and girls in khaki shorts and plaid-pleated skirts, knelt beneath the crucifix, are mouthing the words of the hymnal printed in our praise books. A merciless god is beating down. Raised by their prayers, a cloud of holiness surrounds the priests and deacons situated just behind the altar, making them appear righteous and devout. The cloud envelops our visages, moves in hypnotizing tufts about our credulous bodies. There is the ring of the altar boy’s bell, the pounding of organ notes bellowing in the church. Our small bodies restless from the endless duration of weekly mass, and the monotony of “Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy” is reverberating through and through the wooden pews.

Peace out, y'all.

the power of language

I wanted to write this yesterday, but because of weak internet connections, that just didn't happen. So, here it is.

After a depressive start to the week, I began to feel moderately better in ways, probably a combination of not having to work at the soul-crushing bureaucracy they call Applebees, feeling confident about summer classes, and maybe a little - receiving some much needed appreciation from the boyfriend. I now had some momentum for the week.

Little did I know that Wednesday's words - a few light-shining phrases - would completely change my bleak mood.

I woke up late yesterday morning, semi-prepared for the daunting task of cramming for my British literary history midterm, then actually taking the test at 12. So I grabbed breakfast at McD's, studied like a hermit crab in a room by myself in the Orr Center, took the midterm, presumably rocked the bitch out, then proceeded to my car to head home for lunch.

There I found the first of my "Wednesday's words."

Just as I pulled my keys out to start my rockin' Monte Carlo, i spied on the windshield a note ... for me? I slid it off the surface, "This is a ticket for Being so damn Cute! :-) ." What?!? I laughed my "tehehe" and smiled shyly, almost ashamedly, for I don't know what reason. I thought it was the boyfriend, but I found out later, apparently not. Regardless of the sender, it made me smile like I hadn't in at least a month.

So after lunch and a nice, brief siesta, it was time for class with Dr. Rivers. This is the third course that I've taken with him, a hint that I might either desperately be hunting or a letter of recommendation or actually enjoy his presence in the classroom. Either way, though Rivers rarely gives any abundance of praise or attention to any one person, something he said to me nearly brought me to tears. Just as we were walking out for our ten-minute break, Rivers clumsily dropped a few papers in front of his desk, and as I sit in the very front row, I instantly reached to grab them for him. He creaked up a bit, half ready to grab them himself when he realized that I was already there, "Oh - oh you're getting those for me.
Oh, you're so sweet."

I handed him his papers as I grinned my you-can't-see-I'm-smiling smile, and rushed out of the room. At once, I wanted to run to the bathroom and cry. Not only because I was so touched by the subtle sign of affection and attention that was shown to me, but also because I realized how starved my poor heart was for some genuine love. I knew that such simple flattery shouldn't be enough to elicit such a strong sentiment.....

I have to interrupt and promise that I'm holding this thought. Time for class. :-(

taco bell and studying

So I guess I really haven't written on here for a while. My computer felt like getting sick and apparently teasing me with what Richie calls "the blue screen of death." But now its working sufficiently, except for the fact that I have to reinstall Microsoft Office 2007 (the free trial version, because my prior trial version just ran out....).

I've been feeling disenchanted with life in general lately, with a bit more sunshine today. I have an eight-page paper to finish and a midterm to study for...all for an old, mired-in-tradition, douche. Well, maybe I wouldn't go so far as to say he's a douche, but it's a close call. I'd rather just study rhetoric, a much more palatable subject to me than the survey of British literary history. Do not confuse this with a distaste for British literature, just the class, and the teacher, and sitting so long in one position that my legs start to cramp. This calls for a "grrrr."

I just ate my taco bell/KFC, and to be honest, I think it hit the spot. I'm not sure which spot, maybe the "I'm really craving lukewarm food and heartburn" spot, but, nevertheless.

I guess I"m gonna continue to wait impatiently for Office to download, then study for the midterm. Wish me luck :-)

kitty love

To my eyes, the most heartwarming sight is that of my cuddling cats couched in comfort and love and post-fancy feast sleepiness. They lick and clean, pawing around each other and relaxing in the patterned chair next to the hallway. Oh, kitty kisses...

I'm pretty hungry at this point. I can hear the sizzle of the sausage on the stove, probably meaning it's ready to be turned - yummmmm.

Besides all that excitement, I have work at the CrApplebees to look forward to, then karaoke at my favorite hole in the wall, Lamasco. What a day. :-)

Chillin

After only two days of blogging, I'm already losing momentum. Who knew. :-) I made a resolution to write everyday, so, here goes. It's time to whip my ass into shape.

At the moment, I'm just relaxing with my beau, Richie, watching The Colbert Report. After finishing up my day at school, I dove into the jungle of mediocrity, motion-censored frozen-section lights, and low prices mired in the malaise of cheap Chinese labor: Walmart. I of course bought more groceries than were needed, which included the Honey Moon ale and kickass pepperoni pizza that Richie and I proceeded to throw back while chilling on the secondhand couch in my living room.

I guess it was the combination of lukewarm beer and Dr. River's lecture today on naming and persuasion, but I decided to rant on the absurdity of our healthcare system in the United States. A rose by another name apparently does not smell as sweet. We fear a "public health option" for its socialist implications, limited choice of doctors, and inevitable inefficiency. We fear what we do not understand, and obviously, what the majority of Americans fail to understand is that this system is exactly what we already call private health insurance. For those of us lucky enough to say we own coverage, we are accustomed to paying into a socialist pool of funds for the public good, visiting only those physicians of whom United Healthcare or Anthem approve, and battling a bumbling bureaucracy of inept medical assistants, front-desk secretaries, and pharmaceutical reps. The only difference I see between these two systems is that with one the value of human health is based on the number of zeros on a paycheck, where the other at least has the decency to let everyone play.

Well, gotta go finish watching The Royal Tenenbaums then homework. Then blissful sleep.

Peace.

oh, and that too

Forgot to mention that Iran's government has just recently issued a ban on foreign media within the country. I never thought I'd say this, but, thank God for twitter.

I feel uneasy because I reminded myself of something unfortunate (that I did).

Here's a song (and video) I love:

Peter Bjorn and John "Up Against the Wall"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sbWemy7dwUE

day one

This is my life. I'm not sure how interesting it may be, not sure that i will always be glad that its mine, completely sure that I will experience pain that I never thought I could take and satisfaction that at once could not seem real. And though I call this my life, I'd like to include whatever and whoever I can in it, and invite anyone with enough time to waste to join me in my experience. So here goes...

After going to my first class today, I came back to my apartment to flip on CNN and finish the half-eaten pizza sub that, much like my interest in British literature, had been working on getting stale for the last hour or so. To little surprise, reports from Iran were already flooding the screen: photos of slain protesters, scrolling updates on the Mideast uprisings, clever "Eye on Iran" title for the new hot topic. This is something that I actually care quite deeply about. While sucking down our $1 margaritas, I made an attempt at distracting my mom from the unfortunate fact that there were yet no chips with salsa nor burger sitting in front of her; I asked her something to the effect of, "So what do you think about the Iranian elections? You think Ahmadinejad rigged them?" Disappointingly, she responded essentially with, "Oh, I don't know. I don't really care." What!?!?! Why did she not care, HOW could she not care?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IL5xyONzPNg&feature=popular

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKY-smJ6aBQ

Maybe she just needed something to eat. If only that's all it took. If so, I'd like to buy a sandwich for everyone.