There are about two and a half hours left in 2006.

There are numerous things that happened this past year, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who wishes they could rewind time and do some things over. I suppose the only thing you can do is look at 2007 as a chance to do better.

Since I left for break, I've been working out as much as possible. We have a treadmill and bike in our basement now, and I either ride the bike on the difficult level or run. I want to make a trip to the Incline before break ends; it might be my last chance for a while.

I feel so much better when I'm in shape, both physically and mentally. I figure I need it to stay sane after the events of the past year. A goal of mine is to run a half marathon, and then a marathon, but that's going to take a lot of commitment and training. Why not?

I took my dog walking through some knee deep snow, and it basically enveloped her up to her chest. She had to hop around to get out, and she looked like an oversized rabbit. More snow to come!

My Wolfgang Borchert book came in today, and I've started reading the poems. It will give me enough German language to chew on for the next semester. Ausgezeichnet!

Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobiacs (#64)

Some of these will make you chuckle . . .

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/magazinemonitor/2006/12/100_things_we_didnt_know_last_2.shtml

Sometimes, I really wish I would have talked to my uncle about more . . . personal things. Old boyfriends, college, social work, religion, the future; I think I could have gained a lot of wisdom from him. He did teach me a lot through just being who he was, but sometimes, more than anything, I just miss listening and talking to him, and I would give anything just to sit with him over coffee and chat.

He didn't judge, and he didn't preach. He loved and he nurtured, and he understood that we are all only human.

I know I'm going to be influenced by him when I start working. I hear and read what people have said about him, and I want to be just like that.

Before I left for break, I wrote this poem for my roommates.

A Tribute to my Roommates

The semester has come to an end
Which leads me to tell you, my friend,
About my three roommates
Who, on their birthdates,
Were named Eric, Matt and Tony.

Now, Eric likes to read
On magazines does his brain feed
Of their content we don't speak
Because they cause Karin's feminism to leak
And that's a warning one should heed.

Matt likes to play "World of Warcraft"
And he knows the meaning of "fabelhaft"
Sometimes he imitates Shakira
He used to have a hole in his ear-a
But now he sticks out his pierced tongue for a laugh.

Tony is not the least bit viscious
And "Ton Loc" is written on his dishes
He plays hockey inside
By rules he does not abide
By the way . . . your pineapple was delicious!

Now, Ham's presence I must highlight.
The boys joke about eating her off a skewer
So that the world would have one hamster fewer
But when everyone's tucked in their beds
I know the idea enters their heads
To sneak down and kiss her goodnight!

2006 was one bad thing followed by another, beginning in January and ending in December.

Will 2007 be different? I can only hope.

Christmas was calm and peaceful. The difference between this year and last year was the presence of my uncle John, my grandma, and another one of my uncles and his family, who recently moved away.

It's strange, this thing called loss.

Another article about my uncle.

'Father Mac' changed many lives for the better

By Hector Gutierrez, Rocky Mountain News

December 21, 2006

The Rev. John D. McCormick couldn't stand to be referred to as Father John.

"There are too many Father Johns," he would tell his congregation and staff.

Call him Father Mac instead, he insisted.

For the past 31 years that nickname stuck for the thousands of his parishioners and parochial school students that the Rev. McCormick served in the metro area and Colorado Springs.

When he died Dec. 2 of prostate cancer, his congregation remembered and praised him as Father Mac, the jovial Catholic priest who touched their lives. He was 57 when he died at the rectory of the Nativity of Our Lord Catholic Church in Broomfield.

Denver Archbishop Charles Chaput presided over the funeral service for the Rev. McCormick on Monday at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.

"When he was so sick and dying, I said, 'John, you have touched the lives of thousands of people in their lifetime and many at the most desperate times of their lives,' " remembered Susan Pamperin, the reverend's sister, of one of their final conversations together.

"Everybody had a beautiful story: 'He baptized my grandchildren. He buried my husband. He helped me when my son was killed in an accident.' I heard so many stories."

In addition to overseeing the church's activities and the community's 2,700 families, the Rev. McCormick helped supervise the Nativity of Our Lord Catholic School, where he helped lead a staff teaching 490 students from grades K through eight, and another couple of hundred youngsters who attended the church's religious academy.

One of his last wishes was fulfilled before he died, his friends and family said. His church held its first gala fundraiser on Nov. 18 for the Nativity of Our Lord School Foundation, a scholarship program named after the Rev. McCormick that would help pay the tuition for families who couldn't afford it.

The Rev. McCormick's deteriorating physical condition prevented him from attending the gala he helped organize.

"It was difficult for him because he couldn't attend," said Maureen Epson, the business administrator for the Nativity of Our Lord Church. "But as sick as he was he was so thrilled of the success of the gala."

The Rev. McCormick was born March 13, 1949, in York, Neb. His family moved to Colorado Springs when he was 8, and he attended St. Mary's High School. After graduating from high school, the Rev. McCormick, a math whiz, enrolled at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs and planned to pursue a career in engineering.

His career in engineering went out the window after a year, Pamperin, his sister, said.

"After one year of college he discerned his vocation to be the priesthood," she said.

Pamperin said she doesn't recall any major life event that led to her brother's metamorphosis to the priesthood, though, she remembered that when they were children he often acted out the role of a priest and she would play the role of a nun. Her family, she said, were devout Catholics.

"He just felt a calling," Pamperin said.

The Rev. McCormick joined St. Thomas Seminary in Denver in 1969 and became an ordained priest on May 31, 1975. In his first assignment, the Rev. McCormick was parochial vicar at St. Joan of Arc Catholic Church in Arvada. He later was transferred to Corpus Christi Catholic Church in Colorado Springs.

The Rev. McCormick eventually moved back to Denver, where he was an associate pastor at St. Thomas Moore Catholic Church.

His first assignment as a pastor - in which he was in charge of church operations - occurred in 1985 when he was assigned to St. Theresa's Catholic Church in Frederick. As the head pastor at St. Theresa's, he also was responsible for St. Scholastica Catholic Church in Erie and Guardian Angels Catholic Church in Mead.

In 1988, he was transferred to St. Anne's Catholic Church in Arvada where he led the parish for 13 years, the longest pastorate of his priesthood. While at St. Anne's, he oversaw the construction of the much- needed community center. Against his wishes the congregation named the facility the McCormick Center.

"He wasn't in favor of it, and they said, 'Too bad, we're doing it anyway,' " said Donna Farrell, a close friend of the reverend.

In June 2001, the Rev. McCormick was reassigned for the final time to Broomfield's Nativity of Our Lord Catholic Church.

"Father John McCormick was the consummate people person," Epson said. "He touched people's lives, and people who were having difficulty, and people who had questions about their faith, as soon as they met Father Mac, they would change for the better."

Although he was stricken with cancer and undergoing chemotherapy, he vowed not to let up in his vocation. He said as much in his last letter he wrote in the church bulletin to his flock: "I decided to remain at Nativity as your pastor as long as I am able. You are my family and I can think of no better place to spend my final time as a priest. Each and every one of you are a blessing in my life."

In addition to Pamperin, the Rev. McCormick's survivors include two brothers, Patrick, of Littleton, and William, of Petersburg, Alaska; four nieces; and one nephew. He was preceded in death by his parents, John McCormick Sr. and Joan McCormick, and a brother, Charles.

Donations can be made to the McCormick Family Scholarship Fund, the Nativity of Our Lord School, 900 W. Midway Blvd., Broomfield, CO 80020.

I went to change the cage for my seven Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches last night. They had some dried apples in there for food, but I think they took to eating the fake plastic grass that I had put in there to vamp up the aesthetics.

I say this because the "blades" of the grass were much shorter, as if they had been nibbled on, and there were green specks in the roaches' droppings.

I've been DYING to post this.

We didn't quite get this much snow, but this is what it looked like in Denver:

I checked my grades, and I pulled a 3.8 for this past semester. Ahh, relief.

It's snowing/ blizzarding outside. My dad was supposed to go to WI to see his family for Christmas, but his flight was cancelled. I'm glad he'll be able to stay here, with us.

We adopted my uncle's cat, and she's taken to sleeping in the suitcase I brought home for break. She also sits on the furnace vents, and covers them completely with her chubbiness. Having a cat has made my life complete . . .

I bought the complete works of Wolfgang Borchert in German. I'm not taking any German classes next semester, but I think I can keep up my knowledge if I continue to read in the language.

That's about as exciting as it gets.

Another change I'm making in my life:

http://www.brown.edu/Student_Services/Health_Services/Health_Education/nutrition/
veg.htm

I've been thinking about going this route for a while, and the time is nigh.

Sometimes, being back in Fort Collins sounds damn good.

If you haven't seen Little Miss Sunshine, I highly recommend that you do.

http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/little_miss_sunshine/
http://www.blockbuster.com/online/catalog/movieAllDetails?movieId=271419

It comes out at Blockbuster on 12/19, I believe.

"Kablamo" - Incredibad

"Your water is watery!" I laughed.

Since summer 2005, I've been thinking about applying to the Peace Corps.

http://www.peacecorps.gov/

I thought that Scott was going to be a part of my future, and as much as I would have liked that, it's not going to happen. He told me that explicitly.

Thus, I've had to begin to concentrate on myself, and only myself. I haven't had any other option except to look at my life, realize I'm graduating in May, and figure out where I'm going afterwards.

I'm 21 years old.

My uncle died last week at the age of 57. Life goes too fast.

It's time for me to get a clue, and I think I've finally got one.

I had my ears rechecked today.

The doc found the hole on my left eardrum, meaning that the fluid can drain out. There was no hole on the right eardrum, meaning that there's still fluid in there.

That means that I still can't hear like normal, so bear with me.

My uncle's funeral was on Monday, and there was viewing and a vigil on Sunday.

My mom didn't get a rest. Multitudes of people came up to her to tell their story about my uncle. It was non stop. By the end of the funeral reception, I think we were all exhausted.

As soon as they opened the casket at the viewing and I saw him in there, the events of the past nine weeks somehow compacted themselves and hit me in the chest.

It was real.

The following day a friend of his brought over a DVD of compiled pictures she had made, dating from his elementary school days to three weeks ago.

It's in the comparing of the past and the present where you realize what is gone.

My family has a lot of adjusting to do, and that will come with time.

Let it be said, we lost a good man.

Unexpected career turns into blessing for many

Nativity's Father Mac planned to be engineer

By Jolie Breeden

Friday, December 8, 2006

His laughter gave him away.

Booming and infectious, the laughter of Father John D. McCormick always let his parishioners know right where he was.

"You could hear it through the whole building," said Nativity of Our Lord receptionist Janice Dawson. "Everybody knew about his laugh."

The famous laugh rang out at Broomfield's Nativity of Our Lord Catholic Church for the past five years — at carnival dunking booths, during water fights with the parish children or just because someone needed to hear it.

"If you were having a bad day or something was going wrong, he would start his laugh," Dawson said. "He was a man of laughter."

Father McCormick, better known as Father Mac, died Saturday from complications of prostate cancer. He was 57.

The much-loved priest blessed Broomfield literally and figuratively since moving to Nativity from the Shrine of St. Anne in Arvada in 2001. He immediately set about making a home for himself in the community.

"He always talked about Nativity as family," said Deacon Dick Medenwaldt, who's known Father Mac for more than 20 years. "He made every person feel like they were the only person there."

It was a gift Father Mac always possessed, said his sister, Susan Pamperin of Colorado Springs. At its base were sincerity and a down-to-earth good nature.

"I think that's why so many people loved him," she said. "He could identify with them and they could identify with him. He could laugh at himself. He was just such a human being."

Father Mac was born March 13, 1939, in York, Neb., the first child of John D. McCormick, Sr. and Joan Schark McCormick. The family, which eventually included Pamperin and two younger brothers — Patrick and Bill — moved to Colorado Springs around 1947, when McCormick Sr. found work building the Air Force Academy, Pamperin said.

Although Father Mac grew up in a family of tight-knit, observant Catholics, Pamperin said she never expected her brother to become a priest — and neither did he.

"He thought he was going to be an engineer," she said. "I think he just felt a special calling."

That calling caused him to drop his course work at the University of Colorado in Colorado Springs and attend St. Thomas Seminary in Denver in the early '70s. He was ordained into the priesthood in 1975 and ministered to congregations in Frederick, Erie, Colorado Springs and Mead before beginning his longest tenure at St. Anne's in 1988.

While there he did much for children's programs, school renovations and even had a community building —the McCormick Center— named for him. But only against his will.

"He didn't want that building named after him, but (the parishioners) just said 'Sorry, Father, we're going to do it anyway,'" Pamperin said. "He was just so well-loved."

Father Mac continued to inspire devotion when he moved to Nativity, Medenwaldt said.

"I think we probably have a vast, vast majority of people who truly loved him as a priest," he said.

That majority surrounded Father Mac in his last days, Pamperin said, supporting him with visits, food and anything else he needed. With his sister's care, and the support of the church, he was able to remain Nativity's pastor until he died.

"He wanted to keep going for as long as he could," Pamperin said. "He wasn't ready to throw in the towel."

But in September, Father Mac wrote a letter to the parish, whom he called "my dear family," telling them of his terminal illness. He said his last public mass on Oct. 8, but his sister said he continues to guide his flock.

"He's taught us so much," she said. "I think he's taught us through his dying, just as he taught us by the way he lived."

Just so you know, I can't hear.

I found out I had two ear infections, and although they're clearing up, a lot of things just sound like akdflkadshflashfd.

I give you fair warning.

http://www.nidcd.nih.gov/health/hearing/otitism.asp

Regina Spektor- "On the Radio"

This is how it works
It feels a little worse
Than when we drove our hearse
Right through that screaming crowd
While laughing up a storm
Until we were just bone
Until it got so warm
That none of us could sleep
And all the styrofoam
Began to melt away
We tried to find some words
To aid in the decay
But none of them were home
Inside their catacomb
A million ancient bees
Began to sting our knees
While we were on our knees
Praying that disease
Would leave the ones we love
And never come again

On the radio
We heard November Rain
That solo's really long
But it's a pretty song
We listened to it twice
'Cause the DJ was asleep

This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again

And on the radio
You hear November Rain
That solo's awful long
But it's a good refrain
You listen to it twice
'Cause the DJ is asleep
On the radio
(oh oh oh)
On the radio
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio

This is a site where people send in their secrets.

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

I'd like to get a look at the book.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Here's to my uncle. He was really a good, good man who went too, too soon. If I can be more like anyone, I hope it is him, and I mean that.

He really was a man of love, understanding, and warm acceptance.

Sometimes you get to know people even more after death, and it's just now that I'm seeing who he really was.

To be continued.

Maybe not.

Yes, it was a hard pill to swallow, but after a few very strong amaretto sours, some dramatics and maybe 21 gummi bears I think I'm going to be ok.

We met. We talked. We're going to be friends. Not "together" again, but friends.

I think I can live with that. It gives me closure.

We talked for about an hour, and it felt like we were old buddies just meeting for a regular beer after work.

It felt good.

And then we separated, and I was alone. The leather seats in my car hit my legs like sheets of ice.

And I didn't know what to do next.

I figured something out.

5 hours later, I'm back where I started.

But it's time to move on.

I bought Mitch Albom's new book tonight.

Maybe it'll lead me to some enlightenment.

Maybe it was a waste of $20.

I'm hoping it's the former.

Aha! A german online Advent calendar!

http://www.leo.org/wkal/

That face staring back at you in Playboy (and probably any other contemporary magazine or advertisement)?

I'm sorry to disappoint.

Watch this video:

http://www.campaignforrealbeauty.com/

Haiku

Back to school again
Wishing for dramatic change
Only time will tell

If you can beat that, let it show . . .

Do you like the picture of my boobies?

I think their blue feet are fascinating. Plus, the above line was a free stab at a lame joke. Hurrah!

http://www.freep.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20061119/NEWS03/611190639

10 pages down, 5 more to go.

I don't know what to say.

I'm going to spend this next week in Broomfield and the Springs, writing a paper on No Child Left Behind.

I've been finding myself glued to my car seat when I pull into a parking spot. I just don't want to get out. Being inside that little metal and glass casing offers some kind of facade of protection, maybe.

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
I have to go, I have to go
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson went back to bed
Not much hair left on his head
He ate a slice of wonder bread and went right back to bed
And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads
But they're just old light, they're just old light
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson came to my bed
Told me that my hair was red
Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed
Oh I cut his hair myself one night
A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light
And he told me that I'd done alright
And kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light
And he kissed me 'til the mornin' light

Samson went back to bed
Not much hair left on his head
Ate a slice of wonderbread and went right back to bed
Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down
Yeah we couldn't destroy a single one
And history books forgot about us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first

Regina Spektor, "Samson"

We finished watching High Fidelity in HD302 today.

Rob: Top five things I miss about Laura. One; sense of humor. Very dry, but it can also be warm and forgiving. And she's got one of the best all time laughs in the history of all time laughs, she laughs with her entire body. Two; she's got character. Or at least she had character before the Ian nightmare. She's loyal and honest, and she doesn't even take it out on people when she's having a bad day. That's character.

Three; I miss her smell, and the way she tastes. It's a mystery of human chemistry and I don't understand it, some people, as far as their senses are concerned, just feel like home.

I really dig how she walks around. It's like she doesn't care how she looks or what she projects and it's not that she doesn't care it's just, she's not affected I guess, and that gives her grace. And five; she does this thing in bed when she can't get to sleep, she kinda half moans and then rubs her feet together an equal number of times... it just kills me. Believe me, I mean, I could do a top five things about her that drive me crazy but it's just your garden variety women you know, schizo stuff and that's the kind of thing that got me here.

I found the first blog I started. It has entries from almost three years ago:

http://www.blurty.com/users/oldblue/

Why do I keep a blog?

I feel like I don't say anything of substance, aside from the occasional from-the-gut honesty.

I suppose it allows me some control of what I disclose to people and what I don't, and I feel like I haven't had a lot of control in the past couple of weeks.

If I had to put a label on how I feel, it would be empty, like I'm hollow where my ribcage used to be.

What I used to look forward to isn't there anymore, and that's a hard thing to accept.

Fuck it, I need a dog.

Beulah

For field, I'm most likely going to be at an alternative high school, which is what I had been hoping for.

------------------------------------------------

Have you seen that moon-faced kid?
That burned out halo hangs right above his head
It's so hard not to be crushed
When you're praying for too much
And the stars refuse to shine for you
They do it just to spite
Well they know you're trying too hard

Hoping for a little more than just another kiss goodnight
Your face is full and paved with lines
Your hair's receding fast and so is your mind
And that lazy eye won't budge
'Cuz you're praying way too much
And don't take that pill
Your head will swell
You'll only be king once
Just once,
You'll only be king

Smile, please smile
I just want you happy
Smile, please smile
I just want you happy

And the stars refuse to shine for you
They do it just to spite
Well they know you're trying too hard

Born to be mild

www.dullmen.com

The Dull Men's Club celebrates such things as binge flossing, the history of the folding chair, and the cyberspace museum of vacuum cleaners.

Any takers?

In HD302 today, we watched High Fidelity.

Love that movie.

Damn, I haven't had a decent night of sleep for at least a week and a half. I'll come close to crossing into sleep, and then I'll dart awake, eyes wide open, sitting up in my bed. It almost feels as if I have to throw up, like something's got to come out.

Your body does strange things under stress; this must be one of them.

http://www.cnn.com/2006/US/11/05/haggard.allegations/index.html

Dealing with the "problem" must have been unimaginable for him. Through a marriage and the births of five children, it must have been rough to keep that hidden.

What kind of climate kept him from recognizing and accepting this part of himself? I don't think he's a bad person. I do think it's a pity that it remained a secret for so long, and this secret manifested itself in one of the worst ways.

Owning up to things about yourself that you're embarrassed about and/ or ashamed of isn't easy. In the end, though, you still have to look yourself in the mirror every morning. When you don't like what you see, life almost doesn't seem worth living.

Again, I'm not sure that you read this.

But if you do:

I'm only human. I made a mistake. We all screw up from time to time. I learned from it.

What we had was good. You made me happy, and I fell for you more everyday.

Neither of us is perfect, but I was willing to accept that about both you and myself.

Is it worth throwing it all away?

I've been thinking a lot about the time we've spent together: our first date, the bike ride where we saw a shooting star, the little things only we know about.

I'm not willing to believe that it's lost and gone forever.

If you think that too, please don't hesitate to let me know.

I hope I never feel the need to do this:

http://www.time.com/time/insidebiz/article/0,9171,1552061,00.html

When I'm old, I'm going to have earned every single wrinkle I have.

I don't know if you read this.

I'm too timid to say this to you directly, but I need to say it.

I miss you, and no one can fill your place in my heart.

If you want to try things again, I'll be here waiting.

I can promise you that.

When I graduate and get a paying job, I'm going to get two dogs and name then Zak and Sara, after the Ben Folds song.

Just for the record.

When I was in Germany this past summer, I went running in a forest/ park type of area near where I was living.

I would start running, and I would feel like I could go forever. The trails crisscrossed through mounds of trees, and I would just follow whichever one came first. I don't know if it was the lower altitude, but I never even felt tired.

That was a nice feeling, to be able to run with what felt like half the effort I would have needed when I'd run in the past.

I suppose that's the way of things; sometimes we need more energy and strength than we would otherwise, when things are "normal."

I'm really not feeling Halloween this year. The thrill I used to get out of it would come from being someone else, but it's just not doing anything for me this year.

Bear with me. These next couple of months are going to be tough for me.

Time can do a lot, but it's impossible to predict what it will bring. Argue all you want about statistics, the odds of the universe, religion . . . we simply don't know for sure.

It's the interim that kills me.

Taking a cue from the Killers, smile like you mean it. That's going to be my goal.

I went to the grocery store yesterday, and passed by the deodorant section to find the one that he wears. I stood there and smelled it, then walked away.

It's going to be a while until I can go in and buy yogurt and bananas without smelling deodorant.

Does anyone else remember this song?

The Verve Pipe- "Freshmen"

When I was young and knew everything
And she a punk who rarely ever took advice
Now I'm guilt stricken
Sobbing with my head on the floor
Stompin' baby's breath and a shoe full of rice

I can't be held responsible
Cause she was touching her face
I won't be held responsible
She fell in love in the first place

(Chorus)
For the life of me I cannot remember
What made us think that we were wise and
We'd never compromise
For the life of me I cannot believe
We'd ever die for these sins
We were merely freshmen

My best friend took a week's
Vacation to forget her
His girl took a week's worth of
Valium and slept
Now he's guilt stricken sobbing with his
Head on the floor
Thinks about her now and how he never really
Wept he says

I can't be held responsible
Cause she was touching her face
I won't be held responsible
She fell in love in the first place

(Chorus)

We've tried to wash our hands of all of this
We never talk of our lack in relationships
And how we're guilt stricken sobbing with our
Heads on the floor
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip
We'd say

I can't be held responsible
Cause she was touching her face
And I won't be held responsible
She fell in love in the first place

Coldplay

When I counted up my demons
Saw there was one for every day
With the good ones on my shoulders
I drove the other ones away

So if you ever feel neglected
And if you think that all is lost
I'll be counting up my demons, yeah
Hoping everything's not lost

When you thought that it was over
You could feel it all around
And everybody's out to get you
Don't you let it drag you down

'Cos if you ever feel neglected
And if you think that all is lost
I'll be counting up my demons, yeah
Hoping everything's not lost

If you ever feel neglected
If you think that all is lost
I'll be counting up my demons, yeah
Hoping everything's not lost

Now I never meant to do you wrong
That’s what I came here to say
But if I was wrong then I'm sorry
But don’t let it stand in our way
Cause my head just aches when I think of
The things I shouldn’t have done
But life is for living we all know
And I don’t want to live it alone
Sing ah, ah, ah
Sing ah, ah, ah
And you sing ah, ah, ah

I just got out of my social policy class, where we talked about domestic violence and sexual abuse.

-Children in DV homes are 6X as likely to commit suicide
-Child abuse is 15X more likely to occur in DV homes
-50-75% of batterers abuse their children

I live with three guys. About a month ago, they (along with one of their friends) would say horrendously sexist things to me. "Silence!" was one thing said to me when I would talk or ask a question, among other things.

I was caught utterly off guard. I have encountered sexism in my life, but never has it been so blatant.

I said something that brought it to a stop, but it still crops up now and then (usually via the friend who comes over).

They really are good guys, and I am very happy to be living with them. The fact is that I know they're above comments like that, and that's what frustrates me.

After today, I don't think I can help but being fierce in responding to even the tiniest of comments implying degradation of women. I've been assertive, but maybe it takes more than that.

There's too much at stake.

This week:

German Drama Test on Wednesday
Social Policy Quiz on Friday

I also need to figure out a topic for my policy paper. I'm thinking either gun control or the War on Drugs, just because I don't know a lot about them.

I was just looking at classes for spring semester, and there's one for animal assisted therapy. It's discouraged to take classes while you're in field, but this is too good to pass up.

I got my test back for HD302, and I ended up getting a 52 out of 60. I studied my ass off for that test, poring over the notes and text.

Come test time, there are questions such as "What are the names of the TAs?" Psh.

I never let people see me cry. I'll do it alone, but not in front of other people.

I turn 21 a week from today, so when I found a certain book in the CSU bookstore on sale for $3.00, I thought I'd go all out and buy it.

It's called Adam's Navel: A Natural and Cultural History of the Human Form by Michael Sims. It basically gives a run down of every body part via anecdotes and references to things throughout history. You know you're jealous.

I've decided that I'm going to go to grad school after I graduate. My adviser said that some people like to get working experience beforehand, but I feel like I need to keep plugging along.

A professor of mine said that although there's a good grad program here, I would learn a lot more by leaving Colorado, and I highly value his opinion.

I've been looking around online, and both the University of Michigan and Washington University in St. Louis have programs that strike me.

There are fellowships and scholarships I want to apply for. If I get them, going out of state will be a real possibility. If not, I think I will remain here.

It's about 9:00 on a Friday night, but I need some alone/ down time right now.

Life seems to slip by me so fast. Weeks go by like nothing, things that seemed to be an eternity away creep up on me, and in between the cycles I sometimes miss things.

To feel truly understood is indescribable.

To be with someone who is like you in so many ways, yet different enough . . .

Sometimes, your gut just says that something is good, and you can't help but think that you're pretty damn lucky.

Today I had a thought that disturbed me.

Maybe I should have gone towards a degree that would allow me to get a Master's in entomology.

It's on a totally different plane than what I'm doing now, but that fire that I have when I'm around insects has never burned out.

Everything really does happen for a reason. Maybe that's a construction that we, as humans, have made to make sense of things.

Nevertheless, when I really look at things in my life, the above has held true.

Do you ever look back on something that you weren't sure about, and realize that you knew how you REALLY felt all along?

For my social policy class, I have to choose a topic (EX: abstinence only education) and propose a policy change. We then do a mock legislative hearing.

I'm thinking of global warming, and proposing that greenhouse gas emission caps be introduced ala California. Be it at the state or federal level, I don't know.

http://pennenvironment.org/reports/rising.pdf

Well, you don't say (click to enlarge) . . .

I just put in an order for four Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches . . . my roommates were digging the idea of getting one for each of us. They should come sometime in the next couple of weeks.

I need a name, though, for mine . . .

Perhaps?

http://www.workgateways.com/job-social-work.html

http://www.jobsabroad.com/listings.cfm/interntypeID/94

Ahh! Wikibooks!

http://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Main_Page

In case you haven´t heard:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/4778575.stm

I´m scheduled to fly out of Heathrow on Sunday. Hearing about the events of today forces me to recognise, concretely rather than abstractly, the realities of the world we live in.

I arrived in Berlin yesterday, and walked around the city a bit last night. We saw the Brandenburg Tor, and wandered around Unter den Linden.

The more time I spend abroad, the more I start thinking about working abroad after I graduate a year from now. It`s something that I´ve thought about almost daily since I arrived here.

Two things are certain: I´m fluent in English, and am working on my German.

For a while I was thinking about the Peace Corps, but I´m not 100% sold on that idea yet.

For as long as I can remember, I´ve worried about looking back on my life in 50 years and thinking, "Why the hell didn´t I do that?"

As of July 1st, I've been in Hannover, Germany.

I'm really ready for classes to start, as it will be then that we start traveling more (Goslar, Bremen, Berlin, Kiel, etc.) During the day now, we wake up and go into the city, and at night some of the people go out drinking. There's really only so much I like to drink in a given week, though . . .

I'm thinking that in the next few days (if I'm not headed to Prague), I'm going to grap a map and just catch whatever trains come my way. In some ways, I like exploring alone . . .

"Life is a game and true love is a trophy."

-Rufus Wainwright, "Poses"

It's amazing to me what a little time, coupled with a simple ability and commitment to listen, can accomplish.

Life has its bumps, no doubt. Everyone can vouch for that in their own way.

I think more than a few can be resolved, though. I needed to feel confident of that before traveling halfway across the world, and I do now.

Tensions that have been building up between my parents for the past 22 years came to a head last night.

My dad had an interview for a job in Kansas today.

I don't know what's going to happen. Maybe arrangments are going to change, or maybe not. I don't know.

When I was a little kid, the thought of my parents being apart was the worst imaginable thing.

Things change, though.

I want to run a marathon.

Maybe a half marathon would come first.

Regardless, I want to do one, at some point in time.

In 22 days, I'll be on a plane to Frankfurt, Germany. From there I'll go to Hannover, and I'm going with some friends of mine to Zurich, Prague, and Vienna before classes start at the university.

I talked with Richard (who's spent close to six months jetting around Europe) today about Vienna, and he said it's nothing spectacular. Instead, he mentioned Krakow. Possibility? Perhaps.

I figure this is going to be one of the last summers I have to bum around the house. If I get offered (and then take) a job after field placement, I'll be occupied with that.

I've been ready to test and prove myself in the context of a professional environment, and grow upon that.

It might be rough, and I might trip and fall more than once, but I want to see this "real world" that I have heard so much about.

When I speak passionately about a social or political subject, I sometimes hear, "Oh, you college kids always think XYZ . . . "

My views stem from experiences, and whatever investigation and learning I can maneuver. I don't (like to) think that I'm another homogenized poster child.

I don't claim to have all the answers, but I am always willing to learn.

It's 1:34 a.m., and I'm sitting here staring into a laptop screen.

I know that if I go to bed, I'm going to lay on my back, eyes wide open, heels going numb, hands over the latter part of my ribs, hair wet and tangled from a shower, until I finally come to the well worn conclusion that I don't know for sure what the future holds.

How sweet it is to be loved by you.

I got fitted for a knee brace, and I went running with it on today. I think it might be a working solution.

I'm not in shape, and I hate that. I've never been an incredibly fast runner, but I have gotten to the point of gradually improving my times. It's that point that I would like to get to again.

I stumbled upon some Frank Sinatra, and I've come to like this little ditty:

When somebody loves you
Its no good unless he loves you - all the way
Happy to be near you
When you need someone to cheer you - all the way

Taller than the tallest tree is
Thats how it's got to feel
Deeper than the deep blue see is
Thats how deep it goes - if it's real

When somebody needs you
Its no good unless he needs you - all the way
Through the good or lean years
And for all the in between years - come what may

Who know where the road will lead us
Only a fool would say
But if youll let me love you
Its for sure Im gonna love you - all the way, all the way

Sometimes, returning home forces me to face my inner demons.

These past two years have given me a chance to redefine myself. I know what I stand for. I have developed friendships and romantic relationships which have all shaped me in their own ways. I have gained a greater (although still incomplete) understanding of cause and effect, of the past and present, of what happens within the overt and concealed contexts of different environments.

"You make me want to be a better man." - Jack Nicholson, "As Good As It Gets"

I went to an orthopaedic doctor today about my knee, and he said that I'm built so that I'm slightly knock- kneed. Apparently that makes me especially prone for knee cap dislocations (who'd a thunk it?). He added that since it's still swollen, there's a chance there could have been a tear of the miniscus or a surrounding ligament. I have an MRI appointment for next week.

I did check my grades, though, and I pulled a 3.7 for the last semester, so it's been hard for a faulty knee to dampen my mood as of late.

5 months from today, it will be October 10, 2006.

I was born October 10, 1985.

2006- 1985= 21!

4 finals down, 2 more to go.

RA closing dinner on Friday, then back home.

It's going to be a strange month and a half back at home. The dynamics have shifted so dramatically there. I spent close to 18 years in the same city, the same house, with the same people, but when I go back it's not like it used to be. It used to be concrete, but now it's plastic.

I need to continue building myself, with my own sentiments, my own memories, my own reasons. I need the assurance that I can know myself, even when the people and places around me catch me by surprise.

Who knows how long I've loved you,
You know I love you still,
Will I wait a lonely lifetime,
If you want me to I will.

For if I ever saw you,
I didn't catch your name,
But it never really mattered,
I will always feel the same.

Love you forever and forever,
Love you with all my heart;
Love you whenever we're together,
Love you when we're apart.

And when at last I find you,
Your song will fill the air,
Sing it loud so I can hear you,
Make it easy to be near you,
For the things you do endear you to me,
You know I will.
I will.

- The Beatles

Studying for my PY327- Psych of the Female Experience test two nights ago made me begin to wonder about the different attitudes that men and women hold towards sex. Please, correct me if I'm wrong, but in my experience, the stereotypical view is that women view sex as a conduit for emotional expansion, whereas men see it as a chance to spread genes.

Can't it go further than that, though? What about love? Fidelity? Trust?

This was stimulated even further by a conversation I had today with my boyfriend about his upcoming trip to Vegas for his 21st birthday. I'm sure there will be plenty of scantily dressed tiny women with boobs 4x the size of mine and pretty faces curtained by perfect long hair waltzing around him . . . and I'm not like that. I'm not the Maxim cover girl, I'm not the Hooter's waitress, I'm not a fucking commonplace seductress.

Is that to my disadvantage? Are the latter three what men really yearn for? Regardless of the emotional connection and ability to talk that a man can have with a woman, will he always be thinking about the hot young thing he sees on the bus during his daily commute?

I would like to think not, but if you, faithful readers, have any input, I would like to hear your thoughts.

I found this article on the internet, which is relevant:

College Sex & Love: What Men Want

by Micah Stipech

The other day I was working on the computer in our graduate lounge when two female classmates turned to me with exacerbated looks.

"What is the deal with guys?" they asked. "What do they want? I mean, why do they act like they are all interested and then in an instant freak out and start avoiding you?"

I hemmed and hawed through a couple minutes of chair swaggering ramblings about commitment and clingy women before I confirmed what my two classmates suspected; I was a guy, and I had no clue.

Oddly enough, I have thought more about love in the last few months than I have in my entire life, and I'm more confused than ever. As an aspiring psychologist I've decided to do what it seems every good psychologist does when encountering something that baffles them; they come up with a theory and write a paper on it.

I'm categorizing what men want into three hierarchical levels. They form a triangle. The three levels are biological, significance and meaning. The hierarchy shows value (the higher the level the more value and the more human), and the triangle shape shows the empirical reality that most members of my gender, including myself, are more apt to hover towards the bottom with fewer individuals in the upper regions.

The biological level is Sigmund Freud's level. This is the most obvious level and also where most men function. Mainly instinctual, we don't really need our brains to function here. We simply want to propagate our genes. When we operate on this level women wonder why we choose the bad girls over the nice ones. Here we are attracted to what our environment has taught us to desire. It seems that our current society has re-evolved, if you will, to functioning on this level. This level holds our strongest reinforcers. Our friends and idols pat us on the back and make us feel like men when we master this realm.

What men want at the biological level:

• We want you to look like the girl in the magazine
• We want you to act like the James Bond girl
• We want more than one of you
• We don't want responsibility or commitment
• Of course, all this leads to the pinnacle of the biological level…sex.

The second level of significance is Alfred Adler's level. Here men want prestige and security. They want a woman who gets them thumbs up from their buddies when she leaves the table to use the washroom. Here men will gamble on a dangerous investment because she brings such winks and inquisitions from those who hold the approval that really matters to them, their comrades. Men get in trouble here when they shop for a woman like they shop for a car.

On this level men want to feel like men, and nothing makes a guy feel more like a man than having the girl who all the guys are checking out come and sit on your lap.

Now I also mentioned that on this level men want security. It is here the biker dude turns into a softy, but also a place that things can get ugly. When that girl that was sitting on your lap sits on your buddies lap, this level mingles with the lower biological one. Intense emotions of fear, anger and jealousy bombard the once suave male. Basically, he moves in seconds from feelings of googly adoration to wanting to kill everyone. I know that seems harsh, but its true. Men experience these emotions very intensely, and they don't know what to do with them. Barbaric reasoning overwhelms cool wisdom and we have all seen the effects. There are also men who turn emotion inward rather than lashing out. In either case, the effects on the individual are equally as devastating.

Men want security. They desire the one they love to want only them. Believe it or not, here they just want a woman who they can trust, and a woman who thinks they stole the moon. A woman can't build a guy up enough, and there is nothing worse than a woman who makes comments that cut his ego. Basic areas of ego damaging comments are physical stature, sex, power, importance. Contrary to legend, women who are demeaning to guys aren't an attractive challenge, they are just annoying.

What men want on the significance level:

• Prestige
• Approval from the guys
• Someone they can trust
• Someone who thinks they are superman
  

The highest level of the "what men want" pyramid is meaning. This is the hope for the male species. From here flow those brief moments that cause one to believe that there is something more in there than a crass, egotistical, pizza eater.

In this realm men enjoy giving more than receiving. They do things because they want to, not because they are supposed to. They find meaning in experiencing and encountering someone. More than infatuation, men in this realm just want to be with you, not to get something or to keep you from going out with your friends. They are simply content to "be," and don't have to be working towards some type of goal. Here their loved one's best interests are paramount. Here Antoine Saint-Exupery's words ring true, "Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction."

This realm is open ended, it is moving, synergy abounds. From here creativity is spurred, not isolation. Here the whole is greater than the sum. Our intellect, spirit, personality and ambition swirl and motivate us into more than just an emotional experience. Here there is no record of wrongs, no focusing on needs or fairness. In this realm a single worn out picture may sustain a sailor for months. In this realm we don't love you because your beautiful, but you are beautiful simply because we love you. This is where love songs are written, selfless acts are committed, and men become truly human. We transcend all of what we have been conscripted to be, and become what we might and ought.

What men want on the meaning level:

• To give selflessly
• Someone to serve
• Someone who shares mutual purpose
• Someone to sacrifice for
• Shared creativity, intellect, spirit, ambition
• Maturity
• Someone who loves on the same level
  

Does one need to have the lower levels before attaining the higher ones? No. They are continuous and work interchangable. In fact, the more one lives in the meaning level, the more the lower levels fade. This may naturally happen with age, but can be accomplished through conscious endeavor. The more a man trusts and seeks to give selflessly to a woman the less he needs her to look like a cover girl. Unfortunately this is not an easy transcension. It seems that more than ever, both biology and environment have teamed up against men. We are trained to live at the low end of the scale and women have keenly adapted to manipulate us at that same level, which makes moving beyond it even more difficult.

I realize that this paints a dreary picture of the male race. The silver lining is this; men really do desire to love at the highest level. The problem is that not enough of us realize it, nor are we challenged to find it. Our ability to love seems one of the many casualties of our current western culture.

How does a women find such a man? This is perhaps an article for the future, but in the meantime heed this advice; treat us how we ought and should be, not how we are. By this I mean, please stop training us to live off the bottom.

Micah Stipech lives in Whistler, British Columbia, loves to play hockey and works as a child psychotherapist.

I'm studying for my SW286 final, and I came upon this in The Social Work Interview:

"The American cultural emphasis on self expression- speaking our mind, having our say- makes silence seem an unacceptable form of behavior. In general social interaction we feel compelled to talk even if we have nothing to say. Those who are silent are suspect and regarded as unfair for their failure to contribute to the conversation. The usual social meaning of silence is rejection . . . We regard silence as a manifestation of social failure. To suggest that you should never break a silence unless you have something worth saying would be regarded as un- American."

I've always been more of an introvert than an extrovert, which for most of my life I've regarded as a bad thing, so I found this quite interesting.

I feel so far removed from what is going on at home in Colorado Springs, and I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

In two weeks I'm going to be in the thick of it, which will bring its share of stress. Now that I'm older, I'm more able to see beneath the surface of things. I get a sharper, more accurate picture of what's happening, and I think that's where the stress emanates from.

I was just looking through some of my old things, and I found this picture. During my senior year of high school, my English teacher included it in our syllabus. At the time I thought it was trite, but two years and innumerable experiences later, I find it worth thinking about (click to enlarge).

I reconfigured my schedule:

MWF: Generalist Practice- Organizations and Communities, Social Welfare Policy, and Approaches to German Literature

TR: Marriage and Family Relationships and Generalist Practice- Small Groups

I went down from 18 to 15 credits, mainly because I really wanted to take Marriage and Family Relationships. This was during the 400 level German class (my last class required for a German minor), so I figured I could take MF Relationships in the fall and L400G in the spring during field placement. That way, I get the minor squared away, and I still am exposed to German.

I hope that's a reasonable plan . . .

Today's my parent's 22nd anniversary.

22 years . . . hmm.

Rilo Kiley- The Good That Won't Come Out of Us

Let's get together and talk about the modern age.
All of our friends were gathered there with their pets
just talking shit about how we're all so upset about the disappearing ground.
As we watch it melt....

It's all of the good that won't come out of us
and how eventually our hands will just turn to dust,
if we keep shaking them.
Standing here on this frozen lake.

I do this thing where I think I'm real sick
but I won't go to the doctor to find out about it
Cause they make you stay real still in a real small space
As they chart up your insides and put them on display.
They'd see all of it, all of me, all of it.

All the good that won't come out of me
and all the stupid lies I hide behind.
It's such a big mistake
lying here in your warm embrace.

Oh, you're almost home.
I've been waiting for you to come in.
Dancing around in your old suits going crazy in your room again.
I think I'll go out an embarrass myself by getting drunk and falling down in
the street.
You say I choose sadness
that it never once has chosen me.
Maybe you're right...

Let's talk about all of our friends who lost the war
And all of the novels that had yet to be written about them.

It's all the good that won't come out of them
and all the stupid lies they hide behind.
It's such a big mistake
Standing here on this frozen lake.

It's all of the good that won't come out of me
And how eventually my mouth will just turn to dust
If I don't tell you quick.
Standing here on this frozen lake.

Motivation right now is at an all time low.

I went to the bookstore to buy a personal panacea (aka Burt's Bees lip balm), and browsed the clearance rack. I found Haiku U.: From Aristotle to Zola, 100 Great Books in 17 Syllables by David M. Bader. It was $3, and I couldn't pass it up.

Some selections:

The Metamorphosis- Franz Kafka

"What have I become?"
Uncertain, Gregor Samsa
puts out some feelers.

Oedipus Rex- Sophocles

Chorus: Poor bastard.
Oedipus: This is awful!
Blind Seer: Told you so.

One Hundred Years of Solitude- Gabriel Garcia Márquez

Plagues, incest, madness,
human pig- children. Dios!
Where does the time go?

The Call of the Wild- Jack London

Alaskan tundra-
a dog finds his inner wolf.
White snows turn yellow.

The Canterbury Tales- Geoffrey Chaucer

Pilgrimmes on spryng braecke-
roadde trippe! Whoe farrtted? Yiuw didde.
Noe, naught meae. Yaes, yiuw.

I wish I could rewind to two years ago, as that's about when I left home to live elsewhere for the majority of the year.

I think it was then that the relationship between my sister and I changed. She started looking for other sources of emotional support, as I pursued what I felt I needed. I think that as each day passed, the voids in each of us were filled in different ways.

We come together now, and it becomes apparent where we've navigated within in our lives, either consciously or unconsciously, positively or negatively.

The trust and confidentiality we used to have seems so superficial now. We used to be able to do and say anything together. It was almost like she was my second self, just younger and more stubborn. I miss that freedom.

This is what I want for my 21st birthday:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/4930794.stm

Two more weeks of classes, then finals week.

This past week has been productive, I think. Last Aufsatz was due last Monday, and I turned in my two big papers for SW330 and SW340 on Thursday. German test was last Friday, and I think it went well. I got things squared away for PY327 over the weekend, so that's done.

But who wants to listen to me rattle on about school? Not exactly the most tantalizing subject.

I really need to start thinking long and hard about where I'll be a year from now. I think I'm going to get some SW experience before plunging into grad school, per the advice of professors and SW grads.

I'm still playing with the idea of the Peace Corps. On the other hand, though, I could get a job through an agency (or otherwise) and learn a lot there as well.

My little sister is capable of going on to so many great things.

I won't go into detail, but let it be said that I don't agree with a lot of the decisions she's been making. Spending time with her a few weeks ago was like spending time with a stranger who's face I recognized, but attitude, language, and interests I did not.

I am able to separate a person from their behavior. I love my sister, but not her behavior.

I used to be able to be around her and say and do anything I wanted without fear of judgement, but I felt like I was walking eggshells around her.

People do change, I know, but this one's hard to accept.

On a different note . . . .

I bought a ticket to see the Laramie Project on 4/28 at 8:00 pm. Tickets are $6, and it's being performed at the university theater. If you want to come with, great.

I had a study abroad meeting today, and it's becoming apparent just how much I don't know about going to a different country. I try so hard to ensure that I know EXACTLY what to expect, but I have a feeling that I'm going to have to learn that I can't always get my way in that respect.

Three more weeks of class, then finals.

The mantis egg case is due to hatch sometime. The cases usually spend the winter outside, but I kept mine inside by my window for the past six months or so, so I don't know if I'll end up with nymphs or not. Damn, why didn't it occur to me to put it in the fridge?

I talked to my mom last night for about half an hour over the phone. We talked a lot about relationships, especially ones she had had in college. I've never really known that side of her, that is, the young, romantic, hopeful college student.

I told her about how I feel like I don't forget the past easily. For two months I was fooled into believing that things were great within a former relationship; I never had an inkling that it would go sour until it bit me, completely and utterly out of the blue.

Surely, I've gotten over the person, and I'm not hung up on him. Nevertheless, I have distinct memories of what it feels like to be told that someone you care for doesn't want to have anything to do with you.

My mom told me that it's a trust issue; once you've had your heart broken, you're particularly hesitant to put it out there again.

It made so much sense.

I'm with someone now, and every minute I spend with him, a little bit of my protective shell gets chiseled away. It's reassuring.

I think I'm going to deviate slightly from the norm and ask you, whoever you are, what you think.

1) What is love?
2) What does it require to live in the moment?
3) Which is worse: holding onto the past or worrying incessantly about the future?
4) What does the word "ideal" mean?
5) What is happiness for you?

Loaded questions, I know, but I get bored with my own thoughts sometimes.

I just signed up for classes for Fall 2006, two of which include L400 German and L310 Approaches to German Literature. After I'm done with those puppies, I've got a German minor under my belt.

Besides those, I'm taking Contemporary Chicana/o Issues, Social Welfare Policy, Generalist Practice with Small Groups, and G.P. with Organizations and Communities. Spring 2007 will be field placement.

I'm happy with my decision to not RA next year. I realize that I really need to devote my energies to concentrated areas in the near future, and I really don't feel I could be a quality RA and do that at the same time. It has been a good year, though, and I'm glad I had the opportunity.

These past two weeks have been a whirlwind of happenings, but it's exciting.

Am I the only one who's uneasy around cracking knuckles/ backs/ necks/ ankles?

I've found two amazingly good songs: "Cocoon" by the Decemberists and "Before You Cry" by Camera Obscura.

Hmm, so many things are running through my head right now, and those are the only two things that I could squeeze out. Harrumph.

I just bought my tickets for Germany this summer. On June 30th I fly from Denver into London, and from London to Frankfurt. I take a train from Frankfurt to Hannover . . . and it is there that it all begins!

I'm going to be with two of my friends for three of the four flights, so that will be good, I think.

I've wanted to go to Germany since 6th grade, and it's finally going to happen. Unbelievable.

Throughout the day, I can always think of a million things I'd like to write about when I take my ten minutes to make a blog post, but when the time actually comes . . . I've got nothing.

6 weeks left of school (including finals week). I bought a speedometer for my bike, so I'm going to start riding throughout the week and track how far I go. I thought my knee was getting better, but today I went out to shoot baskets, and it wasn't going to have any part of that. So . . . running is going to be on hold until that clears up.

I hope I see a Mourning Cloak soon:


At least twice when I was a kid, I collected as many larvae as I could find; at one time I had at least five caterpillars that grew to adults. I'd feed them Aspen leaves and watch them grow until they formed a chrysalis:




I would expect them to be around during early spring. They were always a sign that school was nearing an end, and the days of summer were an arm's length away.

Sometimes in my life, I just want to freeze frame specific moments. I want to keep more than a mental picture. I want the way that I felt like I couldn't trust my eyes, the complete ignorance of background noise, the utter happiness to be there for me to referance at a moment's notice. When I'm old, I want to remember every single, minute detail with the greatest magnitude of emotion and connection as possible.

Switching gears . . .

Guster was yesterday, and they were AAAMAZING. My family came up too, and it was a good time.

I just put a request out for Madam Butterfly via Interlibrary loan.

I think I've got a handle on school, for the moment.

There's someone who makes me happy.

I'm going to try and ride the bike for an extended amount of time, five days a week. The knee's out of commission for running, but I have to get back into shape.

Ich weiss nicht, was ich machen soll. Ich habe ihn gern, aber gehen Dinge zu schnell? Ich kenne ihn nicht am besten; wird mein Herz gebrochen? Ich glaube nicht, aber es gibt mir Angst. Ich weiss, dass alles wird ok; ich soll mich nicht sorgen.

Jedenfalls kommt die Familie heute. Sie bringen meinen Hund, sodass ich sie sehen kann. Ich amüsiere mich immer mit ihr. Sie werden hier bis morgen, und meine Schwester und ich werden zu Guster heute Nacht gehen.

Wenn man kein Deutsch spricht . . . es tut mir leid. Warum schreibe ich auf Deutsch? Am erstens, muss ich üben. In ungefähr drei Monate, werde ich nach Deutschland fliegen. Mein Deutsch ist nicht am besten, und ich muss besser. Am zweitens, kann ich mich frei exprimieren.

Fragen?

I'm lucky.

Out of nowhere, someone has entered my life.

I swore that I was done, that I was going to live for myself for a while, that I wanted to be independent to the core, that school and my friends were going to be my main focuses here, and that I would follow through with that.

I'm torn.

I feel like I've known him a lot longer than I have, and I've never experienced that.

It's new, and I like it.

I'm not the kind of girl who "needs" to be with someone.

It's just that sometime there's a connection there that makes me grateful to be human, just so as to be able to experience it.

For the first time since my grandma died, things sometimes feel like they're normal and good again.

I don't know how these things work. I want a course of action, a plan B, a troubleshooting guide, just in case things go wrong.

It's the possibility that they won't go wrong, though, that keeps me coming back.

I forgot to note that I went to see Body Worlds (http://www.dmns.org/main/en/) this past Saturday. I drove up and met my dad and sister there.

It was a display of human organs, as well as real bodies that had been preserved by some complicated process. The bodies were made to look like they were doing things like skateboarding or dancing.

I suppose that some could make an argument against the exhibit, but personally, I thought it was worth seeing.

"In life there is nothing more unexpected and surprising than the arrivals and departures of pleasure. If we find it in one place to-day, it is vain to seek it there to-morrow. You can not lay a trap for it." - Alexander Smith

Alright, so . . . there's this guy.

I have so much going on right now, I feel like I'm barely able to keep my head above water.

I feel like I spend a lot of my time just not knowing what I want . . .

The good news:

The knee is only swollen now, with bits of instability thrown in here and there, so I think I'm in the clear . . .

The bad news:

SW340 research paper due Thursday
L301G Aufsatz corrections due Monday
HSCC300 Survey research project due 4/5
PY327 Trafficking of Women 4/6
L301G Referate 4/10
SW330 Community Readiness Assessment 4/13
L301G Aufsatz 4/17
SW340 Biopsychosocial Report 4/20
L301G Pruefung 4/21
HSCC300 Single subject design project 4/26
PY327 Budget 5/2

. . . throw in finals and study abroad meetings, and it's going to be a grand ole time!

I did this partly to lay everything out for my own convenience, partly to give me credibility for being "busy."

The fam- damily + my pup are coming up next weekend, and it's going to be fantastic.

I went over to the girls' apartment last night, and started dancing and goofing off. At one point, my knee just gave out, and went out from under me. I went to sit down and rest, and after a while I thought it was ok. It happened again, however, and this time I landed on my hands and knees.

I woke up today and it hurt like none other. I went to Urgent Care and it turns out that some movement I made popped the knee cap out of place, given that where I was having pain is where the location of the attachments are.

I think it's fair to say that the month of March has never looked favorably upon me.

I'm finding that I'm becoming more in tune with the concept of blogging, hence my move here from www.xanga.com/oldblue10. Comments are encouraged.