Currently Reading Life of Pi By Yann Martel see related

I'll be quick.  I am greatly vexed!  I want to rant and rave, but I am not entirely sure this is a safe haven for my thoughts, because the person who has vexed me could read it (though I don't think they ever really have).  But I am very upset and have been for a long while.  Off and on.  But instead of releasing my anger here, I think I will call my mother tomorrow to vent about it... again.  At this point in time she is my voice of reason, the cool breeze that fans the fevered mind!  If only she could also speak peace to my partner in anger... but I think she will only be angry no matter what happens, and that makes me sad. 

Well, I can't write about the main thing that has upset me today, but I can describe all the others!

1.  Cousin Brad is going home this weekend, and I can't go too!  I just went this past weekend, and I really need to stay here to write my giant papers.  Also, I think I should be here in case there are any developments on the roommate replacement front... but you know, I absolutely cannot tell at all whether my help is wanted or not!  So many mixed signals!  So much anger!  So little communication!  So much upset am I as a result!  Ah, but there, I had said I would not write about it.

2.  Foucault... the man needed an editor!  Discipline and Punish:  long, rambling, difficult, utterly sleep-inducing.  And, unfortunately, the same goes for its Sparknotes!  And, unfortunately, I'm one of the discussion leaders tomorrow!  Of all the rotten luck!  Maybe I can fake it.  (Speaking of luck, though, at least my project group includes the boy I have a semi- psuedo- quasi- almost-crush on.  Actually, it's not really even classifiable as a crush, it's more of a mild admiration or fascination from the far end of the table.  I haven't actually had a crush on anyone in many months, which is weird, but refreshing!)

3.  Today's weather!  Terr-uh-buhl!  Hot inside, cold and rainy outside, hot inside, cold inside, cold outside, hot inside, cold outside, and on and on.  And dripping and grey.  No, not even worthy of grey.  It was plain old gray.  (I like the one with e better, don't you?)  It was a stinky day and I just felt stinky to match.  Don't you hate it when you take a nice good shower, but you still feel gross afterwards?  It's just the stinky weather.  Please let's go back to seventy and sunny!  Also, I don't feel like making a point 4, but I'm just exhausted!  I have not gotten a full night's sleep, no more than eight hours, since the weekend before last (during which, btw, Jennifer and I watched Finding Neverland.  Cinematic brilliance!  Story wonderfulness!  Johnny Depp handsomeness!  I laughed, I cried, I loved the movie.)!  I've gotten about 7 or 8 a night most nights, but I just feel completely out of juice!  I know it's not as beneficial as people think, but I hope I can catch up a little this weekend.  I'll try to either be sleeping, working, or reading so I can try to ignore my jealousy of Brad for getting to go home.  And I'll watch tv, at least on Friday night as usual.  Must not miss Joan of Arcadia, JAG, or Numb3rs/Monk (which is in reruns, but still I can't decide which of the two to watch!).  And I must go to Young library to watch Grave of the Fireflies for honors.  Don't let me forget!  And I think I'll skip church this weekend because I'd rather just go to my own church at home.  They roped me into singing in the choir!  That was interesting.  I haven't been a choir member in the new choir loft yet!  I miss the old one, because in it I didn't feel stared at by the whole congregation.  But it was a good feeling to slip into one of those funny green robes again!

I would like to add, about last weekend, that it was a morsel of heaven.  I love to be at home!  I love to watch the Friday night shows with my family, play chess with Chris because sometimes he beats me (I felt bad for beating Jon!), read Jon's comics, see the Warhammer stuff Chris is painting, watch What Not To Wear with Mom (I LOVE Stacey and Clinton!  And Nic Arrojo and Carmandy!  They all need a facebook group!), help Dad with yardwork.  It was so lovely out this weekend, we had windows open, and plants were growing and blooming in their beds, and I saw one of the groundhogs in the rock stacks again, and Jon and I rode bikes and climbed the gum tree and set up the hammock, and Dad resurrected the grill for hamburgers.  It was all dusty when he took off the grey plastic shroud in the yard, and to dust and ash it shall return with every wonderful grill-out.  On Saturday morning I raked pin-oak leaves, because they do not deshabiller until the end of winter, and the new leaves loosen them like baby teeth.  Chris of the superior msucles took over, and all afternoon I helped Jon pick up the gumballs in the backyard, the big brown cockleburrs that fall from the two gum trees and tangle in the grass.  We filled a whole garbage bag, and it ached sharply and pleasantly in my back for two or three days. 

Well, I typed a lot more than I intended to type and I need to plow through the rest of the Foucault Sparknotes.  Then I'll waste more perfectly good sleeping time on Anne of Green Gables, which I began again last night!  Oh, pinnacle of happiness!  I hope to be best friends with L.M. Montgomery in heaven, because I think we will understand each other extremely well.  I picked the book up for two reasons:  It is the beginning of spring, the best season, which calls for diving into the best series of books; I am stressed and upset and exhausted and tired, and I need to escape to the starry town of Avonlea or I may go mad.

So now, I'm "currently reading" five books for pleasure; I am not finished with:  At the Back of the North Wind, Kidnapped, The Hobbit, Anne, and Life of Pi.  It's a mercy I'm not really confused.  It's a mercy there are so many great books to read in this world!

I'd like to take this opportunity to wish myself many happy returns of the day!

Happy Birthday to meeeeee, Happy Birthday to meeeeee! Happy Birthday dear spiiiiiiine, Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeeeee!

Two years ago today was my scoliosis surgery! It's the scariest and probably one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Scoliosis is the side-to-side curvature of the spine. My first curve, discovered in seventh grade, was in the lower back and was accompanied by a slight twist in the spine, making my ribs stick out a little in the back.  In eighth grade I had to get a plastic brace to try to keep the curve from getting worse. I'm not sure when my complementary curve developed in my upper back, making my spine an S, but it may have been around that time.  Braces try to keep the curve from getting worse, but they can't really correct the curve.  They don't always work either, because my back slowly got worse.  In my ninth grade year my orthopedic doctor was worried that my spinal cord might be in danger of being squished or something, so I had to have an MRI (which was about the most peaceful thing in the world! I just loved it and wouldn't mind if I had to have another one someday!).  The whole time I had scoliosis I was absolutely terrified that I might have to get surgery to correct it, and I'd never had surgery before.  At the beginning of my senior year my brace didn't fit very well anymore, and the doctor said I could quit wearing it because my back hadn't changed for a while. Of course, by the next visit that December, what else happened but my larger curve jumped maybe ten degrees! I can't remember if that put it above 50 or 60 degrees, but either way it was time for surgery. My back was done growing, and since it didn't quit getting worse it was just going to keep doing so, which would have caused major health problems down the road. Pregnancy would've been much more difficult. My internal organs would've been all squished. My back would've started hurting more. I might've been in a wheelchair by age 50! No fun at all.

So surgery it was, and I had it Monday, March 31, 2003, at Cincinnati Children's.  I was in the hospital for four days, and it was a rough time and thankfully I don't remember much of it. I had a tube running down my nose into my throat so I didn't throw up (which was the only thing I was really afraid of! I absolutely HATE throwing up more than anything in the world, and am grateful for that uncomfortable tube), tubes giving me oxygen or something, at least two iv's (still have the scars! one's a monster, it was a really huge needle!), that thing they put on your finger to monitor your heart or something, and who knows what else. My nurses were nice. THEN there was the glorious April Fools joke! So my second day in the hospital was April 1, right? Well, that first night was mostly sleepless, I just laid there pressing the button that delivered more morphine (stupid timed schedule! I only actually got it about every seven minutes, not every time I pushed the button! Oh well.), and thought about my experiences so far. ALL the time doctors and nurses came in, pulled the sheets off my feet, and told me to wiggle my toes to make sure my spinal cord still worked. I was already sick of it after the first day. So, when I realized the next day was April Fools day I thought of a marvelous joke.  At about 6 am, the golden opportunity came in the form of a whole team of doctors who for some unknown reason had come to observe me and my wiggling toes. One of 'em exposed my poor cold feet and gave the command, and I said, "I... can't!" I'm told they about fainted. Then I wiggled with great vigor and said April Fools! The nurses really liked that one.

After the hospital I came home, and took up residence in a recliner before the tv.  I watched many episodes of Cheers. I did many crossword puzzles. It was a difficult time recovering from the surgery and I missed school almost all of April. (I had a homebound teacher, but that was boring!  I started going back for a little bit on some days because early May was AP time, and that was rough! I didn't go back to school full time until maybe 6 weeks after my surgery.) It was difficult recovery time. I had to walk around the house with a walker we had borrowed until I regained strength and balance, and use this breathing thing to exercise my lungs and get 'em working right again (that sucked!). My heart felt really fluttery and once I came very close to fainting because I'd been standing up a long time. Once about a week or two after the surgery I just kind of realized that someone had actually cut into my skin and moved stuff around in there, and I kind of freaked out, but that was the only time the whole idea of surgery really bothered me.

So now it's two years later, and I'm pretty much back to normal only better and taller than before the surgery, and I have a freaking awesome scar to boot! It's about 10 or 12 inches long, running along my side on the left (this was an anterior spinal fusion, and went like this: they cut in on the side, removed a section of one of the bottom ribs and ground it up real small, removed the discs or cushions or whatever they are from between the T12 and L3 vertebrae and put the ground-up rib there so the four vertebrae would fuse together, and put a titanium rod on either side of the four to hold them in place while they fused - which takes two years to complete, so I'm all fused up now!) anyway, scar... it's really cool! Well, not to people who are grossed out by them, like my youngest brother. But I'm just plain proud of it, after going through all that cuttin' up and stuff!

So Happy Birthday to me. On to less gross things like... American Idol!

 Jessica Sierra was voted out, and I am very happy. I just didn't really like her! I don't know. But it was between her and Anwar (that's his name! I couldn't remember it last entry!) and I would've been happy either way. On Tuesday Anwar sang "I Believe I Can Fly," which I have heard about 200 billion times in my life and it ranks right up there with the Titanic theme song as "songs that were played waaaaaaaay too much and should never really be heard again." I agree with Randy and Simon, he was not a strong singer for most of it and made it up at the end with the nice big high notes. He's been doing that a lot. The judges said that Jessica and Anwar were two of the best singers in the competition, and that it was a shame they were in the bottom three in a contest that is just about singing, and not looks or personality or anyone else. I agree that the two of them are great vocalists, but they are not great performers with great personality, and that's what America wants. This is not at all just a singing contest. Personality and looks and performance play a really big role. Anyway, maybe next week Anwar will go. As I said before, he is just too nice and isn't an interesting or great performer. But I am going to be very upset if Nadia ends up in the bottom three again! She has a great voice and is a wonderful performer. I think it was just the mohawk fiasco that brought her down. I still respect the mohawk! And I do have a right to complain about the votes because I actually voted this time, once for Bo and once for Nadia. I wanted to vote for Constantine, Vonzell, and Anthony too, but I have no idea how much those calls cost! Bo's performance was great, it suited him very well. I just had never heard the song before and couldn't really get into it. I still think he's the best though! I like his voice better than Constantine's, even though Constantine has a great one. He sang a slower song and put on a good performance with all his charisma, and I don't know whether or not I agree with Simon, who said he did better than Bo (he told Bo that he sounded like he was singing in a wedding reception, I do not agree!). Carrie sang a country song again and did a good performance, deserves to be there, blah blah blah. I just don't like her! She is too saccharine. Bleh. Anthony ditched his glasses this week and put on a bright green shirt for the performance that really brought out his eyes, and I thought he looked very handsome! He had a good performance, but he needs to be stronger. I don't remember what Nikko sang, but he did a good job because he's still safe. I haven't really liked his song choices, they're just not my kind of music I guess. Scott Savol had a really weak performance Tuesday. I don't know what happened! He's usually a great singer, but this week I really agreed with Simon, who said that if it was a karaoke bar he would've turned Scott's microphone off. On Wednesday, looking at the bottom three, Simon said he would've traded Nadia for Scott, and again I totally agreed. I think the last person left to discuss is Vonzell, who did an amazing job. She is getting better every week, like Anthony, and I'm starting to like both of them a lot! Bo comes first though.

Terri Schiavo died today. My cousin read what I wrote about the case and emailed me her thoughts from a different angle, one I hadn't really considered. When we were maybe 9 or 10 or 11, our aunt died from a brain tumor and my cousin told me it had been our uncle's decision to let her go, and the rest of our family agreed. I didn't think about the Schiavo case from this angle because I was too young to understand what was going on at the time, and I haven't really asked about it because I don't want to bring it up. Anyway, since I saw the whole situation from this new point of view and got an idea of what it may have been like for Mr. Schiavo, I realized that it's not my place, as I'm not at all involved in the situation, to have a strong and vocal opinion about any decisions that were made. I can have my opinion, but I don't feel it's my place to declare anything or anyone right or wrong or anything like that. I haven't made a decision like that, I haven't really gone through anything like that that I can remember, so it's not up to me. It made me think of the vote on the gay marriage amendment back in November. It is not fair in America, where people are supposed to have religious freedom, to legislate anyone's religious beliefs. It doesn't matter what I think about homosexuality (I don't even know what I think about it anyway!), it is not my place to tell anyone else what to do or think or to try to make laws that do so. That's not what America is about! Also, it's not fair for anyone to deny rights to anyone else. Hello, this is America! But I probably already ranted and raved at length about this back in November.

I am still angry at Mr. Schiavo though. His having children with another woman just makes me feel like he's a little shady... but I'm not in his shoes so I shouldn't judge. What I AM pissed about is this: 1. I read in an article the other day that he's going to have her cremated, while her family wants a traditional Roman Catholic burial because that's their beliefs and Terri's too. Why can't he just give them this? Just make this concession? I surely don't know all the details, but it just sounds like vindictiveness. But again, I don't really know. 2. I read today that Michael was with Terri when she died and wouldn't allow her family to be with her too! That just sounded evil to me. I don't know what his motives are for that, but I think it's very obvious that her family loves her like crazy, why wouldn't he allow them to be with her in her last moments on earth? They couldn't go to her till after she had passed. That is just a terrible, terrible thing to do and makes me wonder why he did it. But I'm not involved and I'll never know, so I'd better let it go.

The thing that is so scary to me about this whole ordeal is that her husband gets to make all these decisions about her, while her family that loves her doesn't get any say no matter how hard they fight. I never really realized that by law it's the spouse who makes those decisions. It makes me feel scared to get married; what if the same thing happens to me, and my family wants to keep me alive but my husband doesn't and goes on to have relationships with other women - well, I'd be in a persistant vegetative state, so what's it to me whether I live or die? I'll never know the difference till I finally do die and get to heaven, and then it won't matter! If my family wanted to go to the expense of keeping me alive, then let them, I say! And if I decided I'd rather die in that situation, I think my family would know. They at least know now that I want to be an organ donor should anything happen to me, so that might influence their decision. Anyway. These fears of the husband that the Schiavo case inspires in me are the same fears of the Bluebeard tales that we studied in my fairy tales class. In this tale a woman marries Bluebeard, or Silvernose, or Mr. Fox, or whoever the husband is in the variant, and he offers her all the riches and freedom of his house except one room that he keeps locked. One day he goes away on a trip, and gives her the key to the room with the other house keys, saying that she must not go into it. Of course, she does, and finds gallons of blood and dead bodies hung up everywhere or piled together - in some stories, they're his former wives. The key falls in the blood and the blood won't come off, and on his return Bluebeard finds out what happened and gets his axe to kill the woman. She is stalling her murder as long as possible by dressing slowly and praying slowly, etc., all the while trying to get the attention of her siblings who can save her. Bluebeard is just about to swing the axe down on her neck when her brothers burst into the room, kill him, and save her life, and then she has all the riches of the house and ends up marrying a man who helps her forget all the bad stuff she had been through. In the psychological reading of this tale type that we discussed in class, it's about the fear every girl has of her exogamous family (the one she's marrying into). In her endogamous family (the one she's born into) she is safe, they all know her and love her and have raised her, but there is the possibility of danger in the exogamous family because they are strangers. I wonder if women even have this fear anymore, since our society doesn't have arranged marriages anymore and you can really get to know your husband and in-laws before you become part of their family. But maybe the fear still exists just a little - with this issue in a way becoming a reality in the whole Schiavo thing, I really understand that fear! I feel safe in my endogamous family, I know that if I ever ended up in a case like Terri's that my family would make the right decision (I just don't even know myself what the right decision would be! But my family members have raised me and know me very well, and I trust them to make the right decision.), and it makes me scared that if I had a husband who maybe didn't make the right decision, or didn't care much for what my family wanted, my family would have no control over it. Ugh! This whole, whole thing is just very hairy.

[this is pretty much the end of the entry.  I wrote this this afternoon - oh shoot, it's not technically the 31st anymore!  This is going to say April 1st!  Oh well.  Anyway, I realized after I wrote it that it was too freaking long, so this is an edited version.  It is still too freaking long, but not as much.  I've just been on a writing kick lately, there is so much to think about and I'm not feeling too depressed to take time to post!  Really, for about the past week or so I have been feeling better than I have all year.  I don't feel depressed anymore, and I am so thoroughly happy to go home.  The very thought of returning to UK is just unbearable, because I just can't take being away from home anymore.  This sounds so dramatic, but I'm completely serious.  I just need to be home.  I'll miss my friends a lot, and UK too, but I can't go back to the depression.  So I've definitely been feeling much better lately than I have all year, knowing that soon I will be home for as long as I need to be.  The only thing that I do not feel good about is the position I've put Cara and Chrissy in.  I'll say it again, I should have seriously considered coming home months ago.  I don't know why for sure, I guess there were many many reasons, but I just didn't consider it.  I just kept trying to ignore the seriousness of my feelings, and help Cara and Chrissy because I knew they wanted to live off-campus as they'd been discussing it for months, and I knew Cara hated being an RA, and so on.  And now I've hurt them by adding extra pressure to their lives and uncertainty about next year's living situation.  I wish I had communicated my feelings about the whole apartment search and my depression and everything with them early on, but I didn't because I cared too much about them and didn't want to hurt them; I didn't realize that this depression was only going to get worse and that by not communicating then, I was only going to cause greater problems down the road.  So now I'm just worried that they won't find another roommate because that would stink for all of us, and I'm just mad at the world, and my computer for freezing up all the time, and at myself for creating this problem.  And in being angry at the situation, not all my anger is directed towards myself, and I don't know if that is fair, I don't know if anyone is to blame but myself.  I don't know.  I just pray to God that this situation will work out, that a new roommate will be found soon that they will like lots and lots, and things will be ok.  And as I've said   from   the   start , I will help in absolutely any way that I can, be it paying for advertisements in the Kernel or anything like that.  I accept the blame 100 percent for not speaking up when I should have.  I just don't know if I deserve 100 percent of the blame for every aspect of this whole problem, because at any time communication of feelings is not one-sided, but maybe I'm just saying this in the heat of the moment and the reader should not regard the last statement.  I don't know. 

I've been realizing lately that several people actually do read this blog sometimes, and I need to start choosing my words more carefully.  Maybe I should start getting my emotions out in my private journal and then just talk about what happened in life in this blog.  But then, who wants to read what the weather was like and what I had for breakfast?  Is that what a blog is really for?  Why do I have this, what am I trying to say and to whom, what is the point of my blog?  I don't know.  I'm just really upset tonight, and very sleep deprived - in the last four nights I've only gotten 19 hours of sleep, less than five hours a night!  Maybe it would be better to just pretend like this entry was never written.  Oh, I wish I hadn't been so stupid about things this year!!!]

If you've been around North Campus in the past few weeks you've most likely seen the crumbled chips and cheetos scattered around the bases of many of the trees.  It looks like someone was just being dumb and littering, but I know who did it!  It was the spirit who cares for the campus wildlife.  I saw her early one morning, a few weeks ago.  She appeared from behind Keeneland, and walked slowly but purposefully to one of the trees in front of it.  She reached deep into a brown bag and then scattered a generous handful of crumbled food at the roots of the tree.  I'm sure that she is the caretaker of squirrels and birds.  She is in the form of an old woman, thin and stooped and frail, wearing a long quilted coat of faded maroon.  Maybe she lives deep in the woods, like Baba Yaga, but every morning comes to care for her children who live in the old trees of Lexington. 

Now I'd like to throw in my two cents on two issues America has been wrestling with in the past few days.  The first is the whole Schiavo situation, and secondly, on a lighter note, is the ongoing drama of American Idol.

I've been reading about the Schiavo issue over the past few months whenever I see a headline about it on msn, and the stuff I've been reading over the past few weeks has pretty much failed to mention a lot of important information that could influence anyone's opinion.  First, did you know that Michael Schiavo has a lover/fiance and they have had two children together?  The only mention of that fact that I've seen or heard in the past few weeks is in one obscure msn article.  One.  Out of maybe 20 or more that I've read recently.  Why does no one talk about this?  For me, this seems like an important indicator of Mr. Schiavo's motives in this whole ordeal.  This obscure article I found on msn yesterday, which wasn't headline news but more of an extra feature, gave a lot more background on Mr. Schiavo and what he's been up to the past 15 years.  Terri collapsed in 1990, during a time when her family says that the Schiavo marriage was becoming troubled (the Schiavos deny this completely).  For the next couple of years Michael was very supportive of his wife, and testified in a 1992 malpractice trial that he loved his wife, took his wedding vows seriously where they say "in sickness and in health," and wanted to stay with his wife the rest of his life.  No mention of the whole "she said she'd rather die than be a vegetable" thing.  The very next year, custody battles began with the Schindler family and it became public that Mr. Schiavo had already had two long-term affairs - at least one, I think, was with a nurse from Terri's hospice.  Despicable!  Can we trust this man when he says he loves his wife, if he's going to lie about taking his wedding vows seriously and so on?  I don't remember what the article said happened over the next few years, but it was about seven or eight years ago that Mr. Schiavo began fighting to let his wife die.  If she had really said that, why didn't he proclaim it from the beginning?  Surely the doctors have known for more than seven or eight years whether she is in a persistent vegetative state or not.  I think the article said that it was about ten years ago that Mr. Schiavo became involved with his now-fiance and mother of his children.  If I've got that time right, could this possibly be a motive for him to want his wife out of the picture?  Who knows?  I think a lot more attention should be paid to Mr. Schiavo's life and his motives should be scrutinized.  Before the Schiavo case came up I thought that the law said the person had to put in writing their request to be allowed to die in a state like that - like a DNR kind of thing.  But these judges removed the feeding tube just on what Mr. Schiavo said - there is no other proof other than his words that this is what Terri would have wanted.  I am definitely more inclined to believe her family than her husband, because obviously they love her like crazy and have known her her whole life, and would be more likely to know what she wants and be truthful about it than would a husband who allegedly threatened to leave her if she put on more weight and apparently doesn't take their wedding vows seriously at all, as he once testified in court.  Because of his history of lovers in the past 15 years, it doesn't seem to me that Mr. Schiavo's motives in letting Terri die are from his love for her.  If her really loved her so much, why has he moved on with his life, had extramarital relationships, had two children with another woman?  It doesn't make sense.  That's why I don't think his motives are those of love for his spouse.  Certain articles have said that he sits with her most of the day, holding her hand and trying to make her comfortable and so on, but those things seem less loving and more false to me when I think about how he betrayed their wedding vows.  I think he should divorce her and let her family take care of her.  They love her so much they are willing to care for her and support her for the rest of her life, and have not given up hope that she could recover.  I agree with Bush, who said that in this matter we should err on the side of life.  Who knows, maybe in a couple years we will learn amazing things about the brain and how to fix it and be able to help Terri and people like her.  I think that the main issue here, though, really is that the law needs to be changed.  If a person wants to be allowed to die rather than remain in a persistent vegetative state for the rest of their lives, they need to speak with a lawyer and get a living will or whatever it is that will legally show that person's wishes.  It does not seem fair or just or right that we should just take another person's word for it, that we should make life-and-death decisions based on what another person says when the person in question is unable to answer for him or herself.  That just isn't right.  Isn't that called hearsay, and isn't that not allowed in criminal court cases?  At least, that's what I've seen on Law and Order.  This whole thing just makes me angry.  I feel bad that poor Terri has to be in this position, and I hope for her sake she really is in a persistent vegetative state and isn't conscious to what's going on, isn't able to feel emotional pain about her starvation.  Of course if she were living, I'd hope she wasn't in that state and that maybe she'd get better some day.  This whole thing is just insane though, and a tragedy.

On to happier things - Mikalah got voted off American Idol last week!!!  And not a moment too soon.  I hear she was good early in the show, but I didn't really watch until before the final 12 cut.  What bothered me about her was that she was just selling herself with sex.  She barely wore any clothes and was always smothered in makeup - what a terrible role model for young girls today!  Just like Britney and Christina and all those other scantily clad young women who sell themselves by their sexual appeal more than by their music.  And, her talking voice was really annoying.  Like the Nanny.  Or Janice.  "Oh my gawd, Chandlah Bing!  Hanh hanh hanh hanh hanh!" 

I was very disappointed, though, that Nadia Turner was in the bottom three.  That sucks!  I think she's the best girl in the whole competition - Carrie Underwood is great, and I know a lot of people like her, but she is just too sugary.  All blonde and blue-eyed and pretty-faced and smiley, like Miss Perfect - she's just not appealing!  Nadia, however, is much more interesting.  I think she kind of reminds me of Latoya London and Fantasia Barrino from last year.  Strong singers, glamourous and not over-the-top, and great performers.  (Latoya was my favorite!  I kind of wish she had won.  I wanted to be that glamorous!)  The talk is that Nadia got bottom three because of the mohawk - I agree, it was not flattering, but I think she should get props for making such a daring move!  But she should most of all be judged on the basis of her singing, which was wonderful.  The song choice made me laugh ("Time After Time") because it's in Napoleon Dynamite!!!

I think the guys in this competition are awesome.  I didn't really like Anthony, who has mousy-looking Clay Aiken's fan base, until the past couple weeks.  He was just a skinny kid with glasses and Clay Aiken's fans.  But his past couple of performances have been really good (this is one of the few times I haven't agreed with Simon) and he has shown off his arms, which are really nice and not too skinny.  But, most of all his voice is good.  I hope he stays for a while, and all the girls save Nadia get voted off first because I'd rather watch the boys.  Scott Savol has surprised me!  His voice is really amazing, and you just wouldn't think that a voice like that would come out of someone who looks and dresses like he does.  Just being honest!  But, that's why I like him!  And I liked his profile on idolonfox.com, he seems like a very down-to earth person.  I miss Judd.  He didn't even make it to the final 12, but I really liked him.  I liked his personality, and I thought his last performance was exceptional, it should have kept him in!  Weird.  I don't really like... is it Anton?  Antwon?  I am blanking on his name right now.  The guy with the real long braids.  He is, like Simon said, just too nice!  It's kind of boring!  I feel bad for not liking him, since he's very nice, but his performances are boring.  Well, on to my two favorite boys... Bo Bice and Constantine Maroulis!  They are the rockers of the group and are veteran performers.  Constantine probably has more girl fans because he has a lot of charisma, and I really like his personality too, but Bo is by far a way more awesome performer.  But I hope Constantine stays a long time.  I really liked his song choice last week, that Partridge family song.  "I think I love you" is the chorus, and he gave the song a lot of rock feel.  It was really interesting, if a little bit over the top.  I'm so glad that he and Bo didn't pick 80's songs like almost everyone else did, because it got boring and I don't really like 80's music anyway.  They picked oldies and I LOVE oldies!!!  But now on to Bo.  I love Bo and I hope he wins!  I agree with Kim, Constantine won't last the whole competition, and when he goes all his fans will vote for Bo because they're both rockers, and then maybe Bo will win.  I hope so.  I really like the personality Bo shows, and his idolonfox profile too.  Another down-to-earth person.  I love his voice most!  He has picked really great songs for his voice.  I was ecstatic last week when he sang Jim Croce's "Time in a Bottle," because I just love that song!  And he sang it a maz ing ly!!!  And it was so sweet how he picked it because he and his mother used to listen to it in the car when he was little, or something like that.  Anyway, Bo better be the next Idol, and if he is then I will finally buy an Idol's cd.  I think I'll start voting for him, he'll be the first person I ever voted for!  I meant to do it last week, oh well!

Speaking of amazing voices, in French we are reading a summarized version of Notre Dame de Paris, about Quasimodo (apparently the Disney version is very different!)  While we read, in class we are watching scenes from a recent opera version of the story, and the guy playing Quasimodo is an extremely popular French singer named Garou.  The opera, from a few years ago, is actually what brought him to fame.  Last week we watched the scene where Quasimodo is crowned Pope of the Fools, and he sings to Esmeralda that maybe now she will love him or notice him or something.  I wasn't paying that much attention to the words, because his voice just blew me away!  It was like I was enchanted.  His voice is deep and very gravelly, and is just amazingly beau ti ful.  I don't know why!  But even with all that crazy makeup on, I was going gaga over him.  And just because of his voice!  I just don't know what it is.  Anyway, I need to find a cd of that opera before I go crazy.  And I'll probably go crazy anyway!  Just ignore it!

I hope I do find a cd of it because I like ordering things online!  Today I ordered my ACT scores to be sent to NKU, which cost $19 because I'm very old and my scores have already been archived.  Then I decided to shell out the big bucks for Proactiv acne treatment.  I'm getting desperate!  I have had blemishes on my face since middle school - that's like seven years!  I have not had clear skin since then, I have always had blemishes all the time.  My acne isn't terrible, it's just average, but I am absolutely sick of it.  In all this time I have tried everything the grocery store has to offer, and none of it has helped (except for Aveeno, which I'm using now, but the difference has been very very slight.  Phooey.)  and some of it has caused blemishes!  I can't afford to see a dermatologist or get any prescriptions for it, so I'm going with Proactiv.  I've been considering it for months now, because it's very expensive.  The three-piece, basic package is $39.95!  That's a lot of money!  But, finally, I've decided that having clear skin is worth more than my forty bucks.  But that stuff better work or I'm

 kicking ass and taking names!  (emotioneric.com is the best.  you must go there right now!)

Tomorrow I'm submitting my NKU application online!  I am so excited!  I am really sad to leave UK and all my friends, but in the past week or so I have been about eighty times happier than I've been all year!  I know that this is what I want and need to do, and I'm really really looking forward to it.  I'm hoping to (keep your fingers crossed) work full-time all summer, hopefully at (cross your toes too!) the library, and have a car by the end of summer.  Then I'll be a full-time student and work part-time, and everything is gonna be hunky-dory!  I'm going to get more involved at church probably, and probably sing in the adult choir - I know it'll make my voice teacher happy!  Hey!  I could be in the handbell choir too!!!  Hmm.  I'm really excited that I kind of get to make a fresh start in school.  I don't think too many people there will know me, so I can kind of reinvent myself if I want, maybe be a bit more friendly and talkative.  It will be wonderful to be in an environment where I'm comfortable (all of Northern Kentucky is a wonderful, comfortable place!  probably because I've been there all my life!) and not constantly anxious!  I want to get involved in some group or organization there, and have a bunch of friends.  I don't want to give up the friends I have now, not at all!  I want to come to Lexington and visit sometimes.  But I want to meet some new people too, see some fresh faces.  And I'm just so glad I'll get to be at home!  The day will come when I move out for good, but it is not this day.  I want to squeeze all the loveliness out of my home that I can, and I hate just being a weekend guest there.  I feel isolated from my family, and I want to have them in my life and be in their lives again.  And one of the things I really really miss is just enjoying the season!  We have a big kitchen window and it is glorious to look out and see the leaves changing (we've got more trees than anyone else in the neighborhood I think ) and watch the branches bend under the weight of the bright red clusters of apples; to see the spirit of color reflected in the snow and be cozy and snug in the house during the long nights; to watch the grass come back to life and greenness and the flowerbeds bloom with lillies and hydrangea and snapdragons and bleeding hearts and columbine and roses!  Along with being so deeply happy to stay at home, I am overjoyed beyond words that it is spring!  It's my favorite season of all and I just revel in it.  This weekend I picked up a gardening magazine (but I was packing and forgot to watch the Victory Garden on PBS!  I was so mad!)  and was very excited.  Someday, I want a big, rambling, ancestral-home kind of house with a lot of land and a lot of old, big trees!  I'll be a gardening nut.  I'll have a shade garden with silvery green plants under fruit trees that blossom beautifully in the spring.  I'll have a vegetable garden, even though I don't like vegetables.  I'll have flowers everywhere, all around the house and wherever I take a notion to put them.  Maybe I'll even have a kind of greenhouse room in the the house like Great Grandma Gartner did.  She was a great gardener.  She was Dad's maternal grandmother, and from the stories I think her house was kind of a paradise.  I only remember the inside, and it was awesome, but apparently she was a great gardener and the outside of her house was beautiful.  Dad proposed to Mom on the porch swing there.  The purple columbine and yellow coreopsis and caleopsis running rampant through our flowerbeds are from her garden.  Dad said once she put  a bunch of plastic animals among the flowers, I guess like they were in a jungle - she sounds like she was a really fun person!  I'm going to put plastic animals in the gardens too.  Oh, I forgot to say that most importantly, I'm going to have a rose garden!  How could I forget that!  And, I'm going to cover at least one side of the house with climbing roses because that would be so beautiful!  I want to have lots and lots and lots of roses.  Then I can harvest the hips and make rose hip syrup, or rose jam, or rose sorbet like I read about in John Scarman's book!  That was last summer.  I was so excited at the idea of rose-flavored ice cream that I dreamed about it!  I can't tell all the dream because I will embarass myself, but in it I had a little cup of rose ice cream, like those single serving Homemade cups.  The little cup was pink, and the ice cream was the most beautiful pink and kind of looked like strawberry ice cream without the chunks of strawberries.  The spoon was white.  It was a feast for the eyes too.  It was the most glorious, beautiful thing I have ever tasted, but I don't remember what it tasted like.  Not like strawberry - after the dream I had a penchant for pink ice cream and ate lots of strawberry, but it just wasn't the same.  I'm a little afraid of the day when I will actually make the rose sorbet - what if it is a letdown, and not glorious, like in the dream?  It's the same way with the 18th floor of Patterson Office Tower.  Last year I had a dream that I went to the 18th floor, though I'd never been there before, and it was an aquarium.  There were lots of dark blues and colorful fish.  That dream was a feast for the eyes too!  Ever since, I've never wanted to go up there except in a dream because I know it's probably not an aquarium, and my lovely dream will be ruined by the boring plainness and mundaneness of it.  Since I have no reason to face that particular reality, I think I'll just go on half-believing that it really is an aquarium in deep blue.

Good grief, look at the time!  2:32!  Oh, I said good grief, which reminds me of Charlie Brown.  We watched the Peanuts Easter special this weekend.  I love it almost as much as the Christmas one, which is just beautiful, especially when Linus tells the story of Christmas.  That's my favorite way I've ever heard it told.  In the Easter special, my favorite part is at the store when Snoopy (I LOVE Snoopy the most!) picks up the musical egg and looks at the picture inside.  It's a picture of some white rabbits in the grass under a tree, and while Snoopy looks at it he gets lost in imagination.  The most beautiful, delicate, dreamlike music plays (I think Dad said it was Beethoven or Bach?) and Snoopy joins the rabbits in dancing along.  It is so beautiful and pure it makes my heart grow three sizes.

going to bed so this doesn't happen tomorrow!

 "I hit the snooze button one too many times"

Well, I just gave the news to Chrissy and Cara, and so now I'll write about what's been going on with me for the past week.  After much, much thought and much, much discussion with my parents, I've decided to move back home and go to Northern Kentucky University.  I feel that in all aspects of my life this is the best thing to do, but the only thing that I feel absolutely horrible about is that I am ditching Cara and Chrissy and the apartment.  I wish I had just questioned my ways of thinking a lot sooner, and realized that moving home is what I have really wanted and needed to do all year, and not roped them into a three-person apartment that now has two people.  I feel like such a bitch.  I will help them in any way that I can, in any way possible to get a new roommate, but I just can't stay at UK.  I have been struggling so much with homesickness and depression this whole year, I can't let it continue.  It is not healthy for me, and not safe either.  I think I have cried more this year than I have ever cried in my life, though I didn't really talk to anybody about it until the past few weeks, when it got so bad that I decided I was way overdue to talk to a counselor.  On move-in day back in August, I just didn't want to come.  I literally cried all day until we got to campus in the afternoon, and a lot over the next few weeks.  For a couple months after that I think I was ok, I'm not sure because I didn't start my private diary until early November.  But around November, I started getting worse.  On Thanksgiving weekend, Mom drove the cousins and me back to campus and while she went to knock on the door, I stayed in the car and sobbed because I just wanted to be at home.  Nobody knew about that one though, because it was dark outside.  I feel like a crybaby, thinking over all these times I've wept, I just feel kind of silly recounting them, but it really was genuine.  I didn't really enjoy Christmas like I normally do, and never really felt in the Christmas spirit.  In January, starting back to school, things just got worse and worse.  I felt sad all the time, but usually (and especially at school, where I can't really afford to be overwhelmed by emotion) it was just a very small thing, like a piece of me was missing but I didn't know what.  About every 2 to 4 weeks I just boiled over, which I know I've written about here.  Each time was a little worse than the one before.  For several days each time I would cry so easily, cry with big sobs like a child, or a mourner.  I felt absolutely hopeless, and didn't think I'd ever be happy again. 

I had several of the symptoms of depression, including no longer being able to enjoy what I had once enjoyed, feeling fatigued and lethargic and out of energy all the time, isolating myself (I didn't really cultivate very many friendships this year, and as I result I have about four friends I communicate with at least once a week - Chrissy and Cara, Jessica and Jennifer.  And I haven't even been a good friend to them, because I've been unintentionally isolating myself so much.), and my thoughts dwelled on death and suicide. I would never, ever commit suicide, I think it is a terrible thing to do to yourself and people who love you, and definitely saw that firsthand back in September at Tates Creek - see blogs from that time.  But during the most recent boiling-over times, I have been so depressed that I have really wanted to just be dead, so I wouldn't have to deal with this stuff anymore.  I would never do it - but I'm scared that if the depression gets worse, who knows what could happen.  I'd never do it - but what if I just lost control over myself?  I don't think I've ever written about that part of it all, because I do feel ashamed of it.  But I've been discovering over the past few weeks how much it helps to talk to people about what's going on with me. 

So finally on March 8th I got to see the counselor, even though it was just an intake session.  I'm pretty sure I already wrote about that.  But we just kept coming back to being away from home as the root of my feelings and depression.  I remember we were talking about why I didn't just go ahead and transfer to NKU earlier, and she asked what I would've done a while ago if my parents had told me that if I wanted to come home it was just fine with them.  I told her that despite this depression I wouldn't come home still, because I felt that getting away from home was the only way to grow up and if I moved home I would never grow up.  I don't know where I got this notion, but that's what I have been convincing myself all year.  That is why I never seriously considered transferring to Northern, because for some reason I had this funny idea in my head.  I remember distinctly, the counselor asked me that same question, why do you think that.  Why do you think that is true for people.  I have no recollection of what I told her or what else we said on that subject, but her question is what has stuck with me.  I think that this notion developed while choosing a college in high school, from two sources:  1.  almost every single one of my friends was moving away from home - I can only think of one friend who stayed - and even though I was "trying to be an individual" in word, in deed I was really just trying to fit in with my friends.  (One of my biggest faults, if not my biggest fault, is that I worry too much about what people think and about fitting in, and so I think it's because of my friends that I felt I should move away and grow up.  That's what a lot of them thought.)  2.  you know how when it comes to major milestones like going to college, everyone older than you has to give you advice?  I got a lot of it when I graduated from high school, and a good load of it was "stay in a dorm.  it's a great experience that everyone should have.  you learn to be independent."  So I think that is also a big cause.  I just wish I had questioned this belief of mine a lot earlier.  I mean, duh, both my parents stayed home and went to college (Dad, UC for 3 years in architecture; then he decided it wasn't meant for him, so he went to NKU for about 3.5 or 4 years.  Mom, associate's degree at NKU.)  and are, obviously, all grown up just fine.  So why did I so strongly think that that wouldn't work for me at all?  I'm really not sure why.  But the result is, I think I screwed Cara and Chrissy over.  I wish I'd given it a lot more thought before even committing to getting an apartment with them in the first place.  This is not at all to say that I don't like them or anything like that - I love them bunches and that's why I feel like such an absolute craphead!  But even during the apartment hunting process, I should have stopped to analyze my thoughts and feelings.  As we got deeper and deeper into the search I felt worse and worse - as I explained it to the counselor, I had had this little pet dream of transferring home to Northern, and when the apartment search got nearer and nearer to its end I felt that little dream dying, that little "out" that would get me back home disappearing altogether.  I should have stopped to think that maybe, because I had been wanting since day one of this school year to stay home, maybe it really is the right thing to do!  I don't know why I didn't stop to think about that.  But it is my own fault, and I still just feel terrible.  Cara and Chrissy, if you're reading this, I'm really really really really really really really really sorry.  There aren't enough really's in the world.  I have been worrying all week over telling you, because I know it's sucky news and I didn't want to add difficulties to your daily life.  I will help you in any way I can, if there's anything I can do. 

The bright side is, since deciding for sure to move home, I feel as though an incredible weight has lifted from my chest.  I am feeling so much better, I think I am almost happy!  Maybe in time.  But I know that this is the best thing for me.  It is not only what I need, but what I really want.  I realized, when I started thinking seriously about NKU last week, that I am just a person who goes along with the flow.  I am very passive, and I just try to blend in with the crowd around me.  I have no backbone (which is kind of ironic, seeing as how part of my real backbone is titanium) and I've never really had to work hard for something I want.  I've never really wanted something enough to work hard for it either.  Also, I've never really wanted something enough to ignore what I think people would think about me if I went for it.  I have had a good life - I have always had a roof over my head, always had plenty of food to eat, always enough clothes to wear, always too many toys to play with.  School has always been easy for me too, at least academically (not so much socially, but that's ok!).  I've never said, I want that and I'm gonna work till I get it no matter what people think! because I've never really been in that much want for anything.  I've always just let myself be pushed around in a current, and never done anything strong and assertive and active.  But going home, going to NKU - I really, really want this.  I don't want to just let things go along, just be blown about by the wind, anymore.  I want to make a mark on my own life, to take hold of it and make it do what I want it to do, not let it do with me what it will.  I am more than willing to work hard - I look forward to it!  I hope to get a full-time job this summer - and I will go back to Subway if I have to - because if I work 40 hours a week for about 15 weeks at just $6 an hour (I think that was my Subway pay), I will have made over $3,000!  That would be enough to get me a reliable car, so I could drive myself to and from school and work, which I really want to be able to do.  I will get my license this summer!  I don't think I have to worry about saving up a lot of money to pay for college, because the tuition at NKU is awesome and KEES money will cover a lot of it.  I will apply for a student loan too, I've had one for the past two years already so that doesn't bother me too much (and Mom said that she heard if you teach in Kentucky for five years after college, you don't have to pay back your student loans!!!  That would rock my face off!), and it won't be as big as it's been.  I'll just need money for books, which I think I can handle.  I will be a full-time student (just 15 hours though, I'm going to take my time and be a good student!) and hopefully keep my summer job just working part-time, to get money for gas and insurance and cell phone and stuff.  Hopefully, being at home and living with people who keep a more regulated schedule will help me to keep a more regulated schedule (what I've been wanting and unable to do for a long time anyway), and that should help lessen my procrastination.  I want to work hard at a job, and earn me some money.  I want to work hard at school, and really learn things instead of just get the grade and forget it.  Can you believe it?  I want to work!  I think I'll just go on wanting to do things all day.  It is very empowering.  I want to be able to be more involved in my church - now that my religious conservativism is fading, I love my church again (even the organ!  yes, I do love it!  it sounds beautiful!!!) and miss it terribly, especially the special weekday stuff like Food for Thought, and the Ash Wednesday service and Holy Week services and so on.  I want to do some volunteer work - maybe with my church, or maybe through school or something.  I've always wanted to do that, but "I just don't have time" - really, I just didn't have motivation.  I want to start writing furiously and actually get some stories done.  I want to spend lots of time with my family.  I want to get involved with extracurricular stuff on campus and make lots of new friends.  I want to get a boyfriend too (Mom told me during all our discussion last week that should I decide to come home, she wants to see me make friends and get a boyfriend.  I said me too, I agree.).  I want to come back to Lexington to visit Cara and Chrissy and some other friends because I will miss them lots.  Maybe I'll even want to visit a couple professors too, the ones I really like.  Anyway, right now I want to go to bed because tomorrow I need to go observe at the middle school, and that means waking up at the crack of 7:30.  At least it's not the crack of dawn... although at this time of year the two are still pretty close.  So anyway, there you have it:  I'm somewhat messed up.  Ok, somewhat to very.  But I'm already starting to get better!  I just wish it hadn't come at the expense of my friends.  I hope everything works out.  Things usually do, it seems to be the way of the world.  But if you are the praying sort, please pray that things will work out well.  Thank you!

Seacrest...out!

Currently Reading Chronicles of Avonlea By L.M. MONTGOMERY see related

It's getting late, and I have the second of the semester's three biology exams tomorrow, and haven't studied AT ALLLLL.  I mean not even a little bit!  So, of course, I have been spending hours doing nothing online.  My newest addictions - as in, started yesterday - are playing Dynomite and putting together puzzles.  And then, of course, there's facebook.  I don't know how so much of my time gets sucked into it, but it does.  And reading blogs.  It's all-consuming!

So, as I not only am a Procrastinator Extraordinaire, but have a lot of important things going on in my life and causing mental turmoil, I decided to just go on wasting time. :)  We'll see how this works out.  I want to share a little more about Mark Twain's The Prince and the Pauper.  It's kind of hard to get through because of the language he uses, especially in the characters' dialogue because it's England in the time of Henry VIII, but there's some parts that had me cracking up!  But I guess it's just because I am a dork who laughs at even the stupidest jokes.  Oh well!  This part was my favorite.  (I found the full text of the book at www.online-literature.com, so I'm just copying and pasting!)  Tom Canty, the pauper, has accidentally switched places with the prince and now all the people of the palace think the prince is going mad.  He is trying to learn how to cope with all the rituals that are part of his day - he has over 380 servants, and a bunch of them must help him dress:  one picks up an article of clothing, hands it to the next nobleman servant, who hands it to the next, and so on down the line until it the last man puts it on the prince.  Eating is just as complicated; the Hereditary Diaperer puts a napkin at the prince's neck, the chaplain says grace, the tester tastes the food, etc.  Then Tom's nose begins to itch...

"Poor Tom ate with his fingers mainly; but no one smiled at it, or
even seemed to observe it.  He inspected his napkin curiously, and
with deep interest, for it was of a very dainty and beautiful
fabric, then said with simplicity--

"Prithee, take it away, lest in mine unheedfulness it be soiled."

The Hereditary Diaperer took it away with reverent manner, and
without word or protest of any sort....

...When he had finished his dessert, he filled his
pockets with nuts; but nobody appeared to be aware of it, or
disturbed by it.  But the next moment he was himself disturbed by
it, and showed discomposure; for this was the only service he had
been permitted to do with his own hands during the meal, and he
did not doubt that he had done a most improper and unprincely
thing.  At that moment the muscles of his nose began to twitch,
and the end of that organ to lift and wrinkle.  This continued,
and Tom began to evince a growing distress.  He looked
appealingly, first at one and then another of the lords about him,
and tears came into his eyes.  They sprang forward with dismay in
their faces, and begged to know his trouble.  Tom said with
genuine anguish--

"I crave your indulgence:  my nose itcheth cruelly.  What is the
custom and usage in this emergence?  Prithee, speed, for 'tis but
a little time that I can bear it."

None smiled; but all were sore perplexed, and looked one to the
other in deep tribulation for counsel.  But behold, here was a
dead wall, and nothing in English history to tell how to get over
it.  The Master of Ceremonies was not present:  there was no one
who felt safe to venture upon this uncharted sea, or risk the
attempt to solve this solemn problem.  Alas! there was no
Hereditary Scratcher.  Meantime the tears had overflowed their
banks, and begun to trickle down Tom's cheeks.  His twitching nose
was pleading more urgently than ever for relief.  At last nature
broke down the barriers of etiquette:  Tom lifted up an inward
prayer for pardon if he was doing wrong, and brought relief to the
burdened hearts of his court by scratching his nose himself."